Bryter Layter
by rave
Summary: Spans four or so years (not including prologue) of the lives and loves of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. (Well, there's not a lot of emphasis on the life-and-love of Wormy, but we're sure you get the idea.) 100% cholesterol-free! Enviromentally-frie
1. Remembrance

bonjour, all. i am rave, resident lunatic and random street person, here with the prologue of a fic that promises to be very very very long, very fun to write (perhaps not so fun to read...) and not as dark as you might think. hope it gives you all a little fleeting entertainment. and i realize this doesn't make very much sense just yet...it'll get better, i swear to god it will. the title has very little to do with the actual story, but i hate titles anyway.

this said, i am done. please, please, please review. i'll even give you an invisible virtual cookie! really!

yours from the farthest corners of the galaxy,

rave.

  
  


oh yeah, and everyone belongs to J.K. Rowling, yes yes yes, except the people who don't. and they're MINE, buster. but they keep clamoring for higher pay, so i might just auction them off to the highest bidder eventually.

i really hope this html works. 

  
  


_

* * *

_

Shadow Eye__

_Prologue: Remembrance_

* * *

The woman with long, blue-black hair shifted on the hard stone floor. 

It was the first time she had moved in days, and it hurt. She flexed her fingers experimentally and winced as a rush of blood flowed to them, bringing back with it every ache and bruise that her involuntary meditation had erased from her mind. Slowly, painfully, she sat up.

A single torch guttered on the wall outside her cell, sending strange shadows in every direction, making her vision dance and wobble insanely. She put one hand on the floor, trying to steady herself, and concentrated on breathing. It was the one thing she hadn't forgotten--breathing. Surviving.

Shivering, she climbed to her feet and stumbled to the wall of the cell, just for the change of view. It seemed like miles; by the time she reached the wall, she was breathing heavily, her limbs shaking uncontrollably. The woman stared at the opposite side of the cell, a thousand years away. There was a niggling bite at the back of her mind that she knew meant that she had forgotten something else. Every day she forgot something new, something integral. This one was important--the bite stung more than usual.

It was so silent that her ears buzzed with imagined noise. "I want to go home," she said out loud, in a voice rusty with disuse. The companionship of the echoes was fleeting, but it was all she had. "I haven't done anything. When will you let me go home?"

_Go home_, whispered the echoes. _Home._

Where was home?

The woman slid down the wall, crumpling into a ball, exhausted with the effort of trying to remember. The cell swam hazily in front of her, as though she watched it through tears. Tears she remembered, but there weren't any left in her; she drank them off her cheeks long ago, on one of the days when the guards forgot to bring water. This haze was drier, darker.

Not remembering home was the worst...worse even than when she had forgotten her name. Names could be replaced. Home...home was the only thing that made life more than _here_, more than darkness and hunger and the constant ache of thirst. But now she had forgotten home.

A wave of dizziness swept over her, prelude to the sick, leaden feeling in her stomach that came with the guards, every time. Of course, their arrival meant food, drink, but no nourishment could be worth the pain their visits brought back. She cringed into the corner of the cell, listening with dread to the swish of the cloaks, and then, slowly, trying to cover her ears against the screaming...

_oh god james lily james lily peter_

_ blood. too much blood. no one has that much blood in their veins, no one--street stained crimson, bright and gaudy, like a carnival. screaming and sobbing--oh god oh god oh god--and then laughter--_

_ --sirius--_

And then they passed. The woman let out a long, low moan, but didn't move, just lay, trembling, on the flagstones, hands over her ears, eyes tight-closed.

Eventually, thirst won out over memory. She crawled, on her stomach, over to the tray. Water--sweet, pure water. she bent her head over the goblet, like a cat, and took one long sip--then pushed it away. Any more, and she wouldn't have enough left to survive the time before she got another glass. 

Something caught her eye--something, stuffed under the stale loaf of bread. The woman dragged herself over to it, pulled it out of its hiding place.

It was a piece of parchment, with only two words written on it. Her haunted gray eyes strained against the permanent half-light of the cage, trying to read what it said, a strange emotion filling her chest, forcing her to try to make out the letters. Was it hope? She thought that prison had killed hope in her years ago, but yet...

Finally, she managed to decipher the tiny parchment, and her mind reeled against it, knowing it was important, not knowing why...she read it again, her unsteady fingers tracing the lines of it:

_Anika Donelan._

* * *


	2. Acquaintance

The not-very-eagerly-awaited first part to this story, centering on MWPP. To tell the truth, I'm really not as pleased with this as I was with the prologue. Be warned, this bit's all fluff, it wasn't very much fun to write, and I think it shows. Angst to come; for now, budding romance and cotton candy and abrasive teachers. Anyway, this story kinda has three bits: this flashback-type thing, giving you Anika's past, then an interlude, then we get back to the time when the prologue takes place (i.e. Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts.) So whichever of those time periods interests you most...just wait around. I'll get to it eventually. *g* Thanks a ton for bearing with me--sorry it's so long! And special thanks to everyone who reviewed--you guys really made me day.

No Lily or Snape in this part. They're coming, though. Slowly but surely.

Everyone belongs to J.K. Rowling except the entire Ravenclaw Quidditch team, Anika, and Erin. "Li'l Red Riding Hood" belongs to whoever sang it (I forget who that was...*sigh*) and the title "Bryter Layter" belongs to Nick Drake, as do the lyrics to "Northern Sky" (the song James doesn't recognize). You should all go pick up that CD _right now_, by the way. (and yes, it came out in 1970, so my continuity should be correct...)

-rave

* * *

Bryter Layter: Part I

Acquaintance

* * *

"Miss Donelan, would it be _so _difficult for you to pay attention?" Professor Rookwood's acerbic voice cracked across the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom like a whip. "I understand how distracting the thought of Quidditch team rosters must be, but please try to maintain at least a vague _air_ of alertness."

Anika Donelan snapped to attention. "Sorry, sir."

"I should hope so," said Rookwood acidly, watching her with an air of extreme dislike. "I have never understood the appeal of that mindless sport in the first place. A simple excuse for the brainless masses to get some kind of superficial glory...nothing required but brute strength and the earnest desire to get one's limbs broken." He waved his wand, and words began to scroll across the board behind him in bright white light. "The main weakness of the Chimaera lies..."

"I bet," muttered Erin Piper, "that he could never play Quidditch."

"Him?" Anika muttered back, snickering quietly. "I bet he couldn't even take a lap around the pitch without falling off the broomstick when he was a kid."

"I bet he couldn't even _mount _the broomstick," Erin whispered, shaking with suppressed giggles as she watched Rookwood's tall, thin back, almost broomstick-like itself. "Not that I should be talking. I can hardly mount a broomstick myself."

"Yes, but you're not old, sour and bitter," Anika reminded her softly, scribbling down a few short notes. "So it's all forgiven. Oh _god_, is this class ever going to end?"

"...Miss Donelan! The Chimaera's most famous attack was on...?"

Anika jumped. "Er, sorry, Professor...come again?"

"We have only been reviewing this incident for the entire _class_, Miss Donelan," Rookwood said, dripping sarcasm. "Where did the most famous Chimaera attack occur?"

"Oh," said Anika, relieved. "Lycia."

Rookwood looked vaguely disappointed, but stopped fixing her with those gimlet eyes and was about to say something else when the sound of the bell echoed through the room. The students gave a universal sigh of relief and stuffed their books into their bags at record speed, heading for the door--

"Not so fast," came Rookwood's level, nasty voice. "No amount of athletic _hysteria_ cancels out your homework. I expect you to read pages 10 through 46 of your book, and answer the questions at the end of the chapters." He snapped his book shut. "Dismissed!"

Anika shot out of the classroom and down the corridor. Her classmates were running almost as fast as she was, burning with curiosity--the Quidditch house teams were a high honor, and this year there had been very few openings. Anika's house, Ravenclaw, had only two--one Beater and the Seeker--and a simply sickening amount of people had tried out. Still, Anika hoped...maybe...

An enormous crowd--Slytherins, mostly--had already gathered at the entrance to the Great Hall and were peering at four huge sheets of parchment that were tacked to the wall, chattering excitedly. She forced her way through the crush of people, finally making it to the front.

QUIDDITCH HOUSE TEAM LINEUPS '76

Anika's eyes jumped to the parchment marked "RAVENCLAW", then to the positions she knew were vacant.

**Seeker:** Emily Watson (third year)

Emily was a nice girl; she'd do well. Still, Anika felt her heart sink--_A third-year got on, and not me?_ She'd hoped...really thought...there was still a chance. Down her eyes jumped again, to:

**Beaters: **Perry Quick (seventh year)

Will McKinnon (seventh year)

Anika felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Of course, she'd made all the necessary self-deprecating comments, had said her share of "There's no _chance_ I'll make it," but deep down she'd been so certain...she'd thought she'd done a good job...

She pushed her way back out of the excitedly babbling crowd, fighting back tears and hating herself for being so self-centered. _You selfish, egocentric brat! They were better than you were, so just bugger off being so "ultra-sensitive"..._

"Congratulations, Ani!" Gretchen Stoop, a sixth-year Slytherin, had grabbed her arm excitedly. "I saw you up there--you must have done great, to make Will McKinnon switch positions for you..."

"What?" asked Anika, completely lost.

"You--did--good," said Gretchen, slowly and carefully. "Con-grat-u-la-tions."

"I didn't get on," Anika said, completely confused.

"You idiot, didn't you even read the whole sign? They switched the team positions all around so you could play..."

Heart leaping in her chest, Anika craned her neck up again to the Ravenclaw lineup, this time reading the whole thing:

RAVENCLAW LINEUP

**Captain:** Will McKinnon (seventh year)

**Chasers:** Andrew Chang (sixth year)

Vanessa Pierce (fifth year)

Delia Quick (sixth year)

**Beaters:** Perry Quick (seventh year)

Will McKinnon (seventh year)

**Seeker: **Emily Watson (third year)

**Keeper: **Anika Donelan (sixth year)

Anika nearly fell over. From behind, Erin enveloped her in a tight hug, yelling "Go Ani! Go Ani!" Will McKinnon, just finished pasting the list of practice dates onto the wall, flashed her a dazzling smile as he hopped down from his stool and said "Congratulations, Donelan," and then she was abruptly mobbed by a group of cheering Ravenclaws, pounding her on the back and yelling happily at her.

*

"...So I finally made it, Hagrid," Anika finished, still flushed and glowing with excitement and triumph. "I've been training up all summer and I get to play Keeper, finally I get to be on the team..."

"Well done, Ani." Hagrid grinned proudly at her, taking another enormous swig from his equally oversized teacup. "I knew yeh'd get in..."

"Eventually." Anika sighed, putting her own cup down on the table. "Took me long enough. I don't know anyone else who tried out four years in a row and didn't get in until the last one."

"Tha's no' the point! Yeh got in, didn't yeh?" Hagrid clapped her enthusiastically on the back, making her emit a sort of "Whoof!" and fall forward into her teacup. "Yeh worked for it and worked for it, an' yeh did it!" He stared at her from under his thick brown eyebrows; from anyone else, it would have been glowering. "I'm proud of yeh, Ani. Really am. Yeh did well...did me proud, you did. I knew yeh'd do well at Hogwarts, didn't I? Said as much the firs' day yeh got yer letter."

Anika went very red and muttered something.

"Yeh see? It mighta taken yeh six years, but yeh're starting to see...it doesn' matter how yeh're born, it's what yeh do...and yeh've done yer best..."

There was a knock on the door. This was lucky; Anika was starting to fear that her face would catch on fire if Hagrid didn't stop shamelessly singing her praises. 

Hagrid got up, a frown of confusion crossing his enormous brow. "Who could tha' be?"

Fang, the boarhound, who was snoozing comfortably on the hearthrug, gave a little snort and waved his paws aimlessly in the air.

Hagrid pulled the door open, Anika trying to see what was outside it, but his broad shoulders blocked her view. Hagrid's gruff voice--"James! Good ter see yeh, James--Sirius, how are yeh? I haven' seen yeh yet this year--come on inside--I'll get yeh some tea..."

He moved aside, and Anika finally got a good view of the people standing at the door. One was a tall, wiry boy, with restless, laughing black eyes and jagged strips of ebony hair that went just past his shoulder...she knew him, vaguely. Sirius Black. (You couldn't really avoid knowing him--every other day he was setting off Dungbombs in the corridors, or making the walls transparent in the prefects' bathroom. Not to mention she had Advanced Arithmancy with him, James Potter, and another Gryffindor sixth-year...they'd only had one class, but they'd never spoken.) He was a sixth-year, Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, best friends with...

That boy, next to him...disheveled, rumpled black hair and soft brown eyes, like a deer's...that was James Potter. Seeker and Captain on the Gryffindor House team, he was supposed to be the best player that Hogwarts had. He had the right look for a Seeker--lightly built, thin, with black glasses and a thoughtful sort of smile. _Not,_ Anika told herself firmly, _that smiles have anything to do with Quidditch talent. I'd appreciate it, Ani, if you'd stay on the subject here._

James spotted her across the room, looking vaguely surprised that anyone else would come to visit Hagrid, but had a friendly enough expression in his eyes as he crossed the hut to the table, Sirius close at his heels.

"Anika, right? Advanced Arithmancy?"

She nodded, smiling into her tea. "And you're James...and Sirius."

Sirius sat down hard, exhaling. "Yep, that's me, Jamesandsirius. We're like one entity, we are."

Anika laughed. 

James seated himself next to his friend, folding his arms across the table. "You're the new Ravenclaw keeper, aren't you? Will McKinnon was just raving about you at the captain's meeting."

_Raving, was he?_ thought Anika drily. "You know how to give a compliment, don't you?"

James grinned at her.

"Careful, Prongs, you're dripping charm on me," said Sirius in a loud stage whisper. "Got a tissue, Anika?"

Anika couldn't believe it...these were the two most popular boys in school, and she was just a not-very-pretty new Ravenclaw Quidditch recruit, and they were actually talking to her...they actually _knew _her name..."Smells a bit _off_, your charm does, James...P'raps it's because you've got a girlfriend."

Sirius guffawed. "You'd better just throw it in, Prongs...she's got your number."

"Imagine she'd rather have yours. You're the single one, aren't you?" 

"Today, anyway..."

"And yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, and so on for a year or more..."

"Only so far as _you_ know..."

"If you had as many girlfriends as you like to pretend you do, there'd be little Sirius Blacks running about all over the country by now, and that _would _be a tragedy--"

"Yeh all know each other, then?" boomed Hagrid amiably, setting down two more cups of tea. "Lovely..."

"So how're you doing, Hagrid?" asked Sirius curiously, having just poured half his tea down the neck of a spluttering James.

"Oh--well, can't complain--"

"Ah," said James innocently, surreptitiously punching Sirius in the ribs. "Well, Hagrid, we came down here to--ack!"

Sirius elbowed him in the stomach, finishing for him, "--to find out if you'd seen Remus yet. He wasn't at the feast, he hasn't come to his classes, and it isn't..er...you know..._owch! _You stupid git!" This last referred to James, who had smacked him on the head with a saucer and was rapidly turning their conversation into a full-fledged brawl. Sirius responded with a will, and Anika watched with interest until Hagrid said firmly, "Enough o' that, you two," and grabbed them both by the collars of their robes, holding them apart like squalling kittens.

Anika blinked. "Is that what boys who are best friends do, then?"

Sirius stuck his tongue out at James across Hagrid's barrel-like chest. "He started it."

"Ah," said Anika wisely. Hagrid set them down on the floor and they sat back down in their places, grinning insanely at each other. "Men," she muttered, only half to herself.

Sirius seemed a little uncomfortable, now that the small-talk section was over; he seemed eager to resume the conversation he and James had been having with Hagrid, and wasn't sure how to do it with Anika around. Too many secrets involved. He hadn't said anything, but she could read it in the way he held his head, even the way he moved his hands. She was good at reading people that way. "Well, I'd best get up to the castle, I suppose." She put down her cup, smiling at Hagrid. "Thanks for the pep talk...see you around..."

"Nice to meet you," Sirius called after her.

"See you!" yelled James.

She waved, and set out down the path, wondering what kind of secrets those two might have.

*

Anika sighed, the soft sound echoing through the Arithmancy classroom, and scribbled down a few more Refractus equations. As usual, she was sitting by herself; most of the Advanced Arithmancy students were seventh-years, and she felt self-conscious about trying to sit with them. Of course it got lonely, but the mortifying thought of rejection kept her at her solitary desk.

James, Sirius, and that other Gryffindor boy were sitting at the table next to her, whispering among themselves. Looking at them gave her a sort of pang--she wished she could have friends like that, friends that she could share everything with, friends she'd have deep, terrible secrets with. She had Erin, of course, and several others, but no one she was such close friends with...not like them...she'd never been like them. She sighed again, more heavily, and turned back to her paper.

There was a tap on her shoulder. She looked up, surprised.

Sirius Black stood over her, a faint half-smile on his handsome face. "You all right, by yourself?"

"Fine," she said firmly, giving him a friendly smile.

"You sure? There are only three of us, so it's hard to work in pairs...you wouldn't care to move over to our table, would you?"

Her breath caught in her throat. "Oh--well--sure--"

"Great." He grabbed her things before she could even reach for them, depositing them easily on the Gryffindor table. Anika climbed to her feet and moved seats; Professor Theta, deeply engrossed in a complicated diagram, didn't even notice.

Taking her seat, Anika reached again for her quill--then gave a little gasp of horror as it emitted a squeak and turned into an enormous stuffed black dog.

Sirius burst into laughter. She fixed him with a glare, hissing, "Did _you_ do that?!"

"A present," said Sirius helpfully.

"How'd you _do_ that?" She was less angry than she was amazed and charmed. _He's _flirting _with me...Sirius Black, Sirius _Black_, is flirting with _me_...._

Sirius waved a hand airily. "Simple transfiguration charm...slipped it on when I picked up your things..."

"In other words, Remus helped him," said James, grinning. The boy next to him blushed a little. "Oh--sorry--this is Remus Lupin, Anika. She's Anika Donelan, Remus, she's the new Ravenclaw Keeper."

"Is that how you introduce everyone? In terms of Quidditch?" Anika wondered aloud. "'This is John Smith, he's the Hufflepuff Seeker--Oh, this is Jane Doe, she's one of the hundreds who didn't make the Quidditch team'?"

Remus laughed. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes, thin and handsome in a bony sort of way. He looked vaguely unwell. Anika felt a bizarre urge to put a cold compress on his head and force-feed him castor oil, but restrained herself.

"Er, Sirius," she said quickly, remembering, "about this dog...it's lovely, it really is, but I still need a quill..."

James snickered, but kept it under control.

"Oh, of course," said Sirius lightly, and--holding her eyes with his--made an outrageous flourish and apparently pulled one out of thin air. 

James nearly collapsed with laughter. "Could you _be_ any more obvious, Padfoot?"

"Obvious about _what_?" asked Sirius innocently, still not dropping the gaze.

"The _subtle_ art of flirtation," said Anika in a scholarly sort of way, "is supposed to be just that. Subtle. I _believe_ that may be what your friend is so _amused_ by." (James let out a sound that sounded like "_Mmmmfp!_" and vanished beneath the table, shaking.) She took the quill, rewarding him with a slight smile. "By the way, I took Muggle slight-of-hand courses for six years, so I know that was up your sleeve the whole time..."

"It wasn't!" Sirius protested.

Anika grinned, made a similar flourish, and produced something else--a note, with the words "_I can do that too._"

Sirius took it, gaping. 

"I cheated a bit on that one, though....a Scriptorus charm to write the note." She shrugged. "But the trick itself isn't so hard..."

James tapped his friend on the arm. "Look, that was a cute little exchange and all, but shouldn't we be concentrating on angles?"

"Oh--right--" Sirius grabbed his paper, dumping the stuffed dog unceremoniously on the floor.

"Careful with that!" said Anika protectively. "I'm getting rather fond of it."

*

"Watch _this_."

The Gryffindor common room was filled with the friendly buzz and chatter of students returning from dinner. Sirius had snagged a couch for himself, James, Remus, and the little Peter Pettigrew, and had produced something that looked vaguely like a pair of omniculars.

James eyed him suspiciously. "I'm almost afraid to touch it."

"No, no, I'm really, really proud of this. I've been working on it for _ages_. Remember that stuffed dog I gave to Anika in Arithmancy?"

"Anika?" asked Peter, a cloud crossing his round face. He didn't have the brains for advanced Arithmancy, sad as it was to admit; he went to pieces even in regular classes. But he was good-hearted, and James had taken him under his wing since their first day at Hogwarts.

"A girl in our class," James clarified. "I think Sirius _fancies_ her. He gave her a stuffed animal."

Remus, surprisingly, was the one who went red.

Sirius lifted an eyebrow. "I'm fairly sure you've got the wrong man." But he abandoned the subject before James could torment Remus further. "Anyway, remember that dog?"

James and Remus nodded.

"Well, when I made it, I--well, just look through these."

He handed the omniculars to James, who squinted curiously through them. It was like looking at a room through glasses of the wrong prescription--everything was a fuzzy blob. A tinny whistling buzzed in his ears. "Er, Sirius, whatever it is, it's out of focus."

"Oh, right. Sorry. Just twiddle the little knob on the side."

James did so; there was a piercing shriek, and then it became clear what he was looking at. A flash of shoulder-length ebony hair, the sparkle of laughing grey eyes. "You enchanted the dog so you could spy on _Anika_?"

"Well, partly...but on the other hand, you know, she rooms with Erin Piper..."

"You're a _disgrace_, Padfoot, an absolute disgrace." Anika was singing now; she had a lovely, rich, velvety alto. "She's cleaning her room. Singing. Got a nice voice. She _cleans_ her goddamn dorm, Sirius! Are you sure she's from Earth?"

"What's she singing?"

James listened, trying to make out the words.

_I never felt magic crazy as this  
I never saw moons knew the meaning of the sea  
I never held emotion in the palm of my hand  
Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree  
But now you're here  
Brighten my northern sk_y

"Some Muggle song--I don't recognize it. Pretty."

"What? What? Let me see!"

"Gerroff, Peter!" James fiddled a bit with the dial, and the view zoomed back, revealing the four other beds of the Ravenclaw sixth-year girls' dorm. "This is brilliant, Pads! How'd you do it?"

Sirius chuckled. "Oh, I'm not telling _you_. Lily'd never forgive me if I gave you the means to watch her undress, you sick voyeur. You'll figure it out eventually anyway."

"Let me _see _it!"

"G'wan, Prongs, let Peter see it for a second."

Rather reluctantly, James handed the omniculars to the smaller boy, who promptly plastered them to his eyes. After a moment, his face fell a bit. "She's not _that_ pretty."

"No, she's not pretty exactly," admitted Sirius, "but she kind of grabs your eye, doesn't she? Anyway...Erin Piper...I don't think there's any doubt whether or not she's pretty. Hey, Moony, you've been waiting awfully patiently..." One look at his friend's face was enough to convince Sirius of what he already suspected. "_Ooooh, _Moony! You _do_ fancy her!"

"I don't," mumbled Remus, going even redder.

James stared at him. "Moony--our Moony--actually having a crush on someone? I didn't think it would ever happen!"

"I _don't_," said Remus again, somewhat more forcefully.

James, however, was not listening; he had burst into song. In an abominable American accent: "Hey there, little Red Riding Hood--"

"Shut up," muttered Remus, hiding his flaming face behind his hands.

Sirius, catching on, had joined in. "Yew sure are lookin' good--"

"_Stop it!_"

Even Peter quickly caught on. "Yore everythin' that a big bad wolf could want--"

"That _isn't funny!_"

All three of them yowled together: "_Awooooooooooooo!_" and dissolved into hysterics.

Remus glared ineffectually at them, ears burning.

  
  


"_But now you're here  
Brighten my--_"

Anika broke off her song and glanced at the stuffed dog on her bunk, somewhat surprised. She could have sworn she'd heard it howl.

Discomfited, she stuffed it behind her bed, and didn't even hear the sounds of disappointment that emitted from it a few moments later.


	3. Stars, Seekers and Stones

Hello all! Tis I, rave, your happy nonsense supplier and local raving lunatic. Heh heh, get it? *rave*ing lunatic? Get it? _Get_ _it?_

_ *long pause*_

Aww....never mind. 

This bit is rated PG-13; as I recall, there's violence in it. Yes, that's it. Violence. So..er...the last part might not make much sense, but it will all be explained...much is explained later on. Have some patience, grasshopper. Thank you a thousand times to everyone who reviewed the first bit and the prologue--Trinity Day, peeves_is_peeved (you've heard of Nick Drake too?! yes! yes! yes! *does a happy dance* i've got to pick up that biography somehow...), Sherry, soz, Blaise, magical*little*me, netshark...oh, there were more and I can't remember them and I love them so! ;_; *weeps* You're *all* my heroes. Thank you so much.

By the way, a quick pronunciation guide to the names of our Irish ministry party who show up at the end:

_Niamh--_pronounced _Neeve_

_Aoine--_pronounced like a sort of cross between_ AN-ye _and_ AN-ya_

_Sean_--pronounced _Shaun_

_Kieran_--pronounced_ KYEH-ran_

The rest of them are basically pronounced the way you'd expect them to be pronounced. I think. If you can't pronounce "Michael", for example, I'm giving you up for lost.

If you leave a review i might consider NOT feeding you to the evil Writer's Block monster that lives under my bed. Muahahaha. 

-rave.

* * *

Bryter Layter--Part II

Stars, Seekers and Stones

* * *

Erin hopped up and down in her seat, rubbing her hands together against the unseasonable cold and breathing out clouds of frost. "Anika's first match," she said excitedly to no one in particular, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck. "I'm so nervous I could absolutely die."

"You don't have to be nervous, that's Anika's lookout," laughed Iris Cantor, blowing into her palms in a futile attempt to warm them. "Why didn't you bring your wand, Erin? I tell you, I could do with a good Heating Charm about now..."

"Yeah," chimed in a third Ravenclaw, Yvonne Lipson, through chattering teeth. "You're the only one who knows them well enough."

"Pfft," said Erin, obscurely. "Anyway, the excitement will warm us up! Look, look, it's starting!" Professor McGonagall had walked out to the edge of the field, accompanied by Elisha Stanton, a fifth-year Hufflepuff girl who always announced the matches. "Hush, you guys!"

The referee, Madam Hooch, was saying something to the two captains, who had already come onto the field. James Potter looked completely at ease; Will McKinnon, on the other hand, looked decidedly nervous. Finishing her speech, Hooch leapt onto her broomstick. At that signal, twelve blurs--six red, six blue--came shooting out of the locker rooms and into formation, floating in the air. Erin, perched on the edge of the seat, could just see Anika, looking faintly green, taking up her position by the hoops. "YOU CAN DO IT, ANI!" she screamed, waving a blue flag furiously. A whistle blew.

"And they're off! Ravenclaw starts with the Quaffle--Chaser Andrew Chang of Ravenclaw, a nice pass to Delia Quick--Quick with the Quaffle, haha--"

"Do you _mind_, Stanton?"

"Sorry, Professor--Quick really speeding down the field, there, and--oh! A _very_ close call, there, with that Bludger--nicely deflected by Will McKinnon, Ravenclaw beater--and a pass to Vanessa Pierce--a neat interception, there, by Chaser Sirius Black!" Erin gave a yell of disappointment that was lost in the cheers of the Gryffindor supporters. "Black's speeding towards the goalposts--a new Keeper this year, Anika Donovan--sorry, Donelan-- have to see how she handles this one--he shoots--SAVED! An excellent save by Donelan!" Erin's throat was nearly ripped apart, she was screaming so loudly and enthusiastically.

Anika quickly passed the Quaffle to Vanessa, body so tense she was almost shaking. _You're doing fine_, she told herself firmly. _Don't get worked up, or you'll destroy your own chances._

_ Oh, no problem. Don't get worked up. There are only--what, a THOUSAND GAZILLION PEOPLE watching me? I won't get worked up. Of course not._

"And Pierce with the Quaffle--she's heading for the goal--nice dive around Chaser Darren Jordan--she's getting ready to shoot--wow! a very nice fake, passing instead to Andrew Chang, puts it in, no problem, making it 0-10 Ravenclaw!" This time, the Ravenclaw cheers were deafening.

"Black back in possession--the Gryffindor chasers may well be some of the best ever assembled, I think we can all admit--working seamlessly--and it's Black--Moyer--Jordan--Moyer--Black preparing to shoot again--"

This time, Anika let herself relax. Sirius seemed to be moving in slow motion, his arms moving as though he would shoot for the leftmost hoop--but she could read the slight variation in muscle tension in his shoulders, and moved instead towards the center one, catching the Quaffle a mere instant later.

"Amazing! You just can't fake this one out, can you?" Anika could see the look of almost gratified surprise on Sirius's face as he moved back, but she ignored it, this time tossing the Quaffle to Delia. 

The game was getting heated. Anika, however, seemed to grow gradually into the rhythm of it the longer it went on; after forty-five straight minutes of play, she had let in not one goal. Ravenclaw, meanwhile, was fifty points up--not a spectacular score but, to Anika's inexperienced eyes, a miracle.

"She's really good, isn't she? Their Keeper?" Remus muttered to the girl next to him, shading his eyes against the bright sun. "I've never seen anyone shut out Sirius for this long!"

"Don't worry," Lily Whitby murmured back, smiling. "James's got the whole game in the palm of his hand. That Emily Watson's probably all right, but she's only a third-year...James will win it for us."

"Oooh yes, James will win it for us," teased Remus, fluttering his eyelashes and clasping his hands melodramatically. "James can do anything. Oh Ja-ames, Ja-ames, Ja_-ow_!" He grinned at his friend, rubbing his shoulder. "You wouldn't be mad if it weren't _true_."

"Really, Moony, anyone would think you didn't want Gryffindor to win." piped up Peter, waving a Gryffindor pennant furiously. "Isn't that Keeper the one Padfoot and Prongs were teasing you about last night? Anita or something?"

"Er--no, I don't think so," Remus lied, avoiding Lily's beady stare. "No...that was someone different. In fact, I--_look!_"

James, who had been circling like a hawk high above the pitch, had gone into an abrupt dive towards the Gryffindor goalposts, so sharp it looked like he was going to crash. A gasp went up from the red-clad supporters--"_He's seen it! The Snitch!_"

Emily Watson had wheeled her own broom around and was racing after him at top speed, but she couldn't possibly match James's experience and skill. He swerved neatly around a beater sent by Perry Quick, dodged his own team's Chaser, Sara Moyer, and reached his hand out--

A roar erupted from the stands as James soared back up, clutching the Snitch in his fingers, its tiny wings beating against his palm. The swell of sound from the Gryffindors was so loud that it overpowered the disappointed yells of the Ravenclaws and the Slytherins' outright booing. 

Anika landed in something of a haze, unaware that her teammates were near-ecstatic even after their loss, not even registering when they nearly bowled her over in a hysterical pile. _It's over...it's over, and I survived..._

"You were _amazing_!" screamed Erin, almost crying, fighting her way to the forefront. "Ani, you were in_cre_dible!"

"Oh," Ani said, dazed. "I can't believe I'm still alive..."

One face swam out of the haze and asserted itself before her eyes. Sirius. He was grinning hugely, ignoring the shouts of his teammates, apparently unaware of the incongruity of his red robes with the cerulean ones around him. "That was some excellent Keeping, Ani."

"About time someone kept you from getting too cocky," said Anika faintly.

His grin grew even wider. "Bit late for that."

"Never too late."

"Hey--I--er--" He looked around, apparently aware for the first time of the sheer number of irritated-looking Ravenclaws surrounding him. Dropping his voice, he leaned in closer to her. "I wanted to talk to you--meet me down by Hagrid's cabin after classes?"

"Sure," Anika said, unable to prevent a smile from spreading over her face. "Even though your stupid team beat me."

Sirius waved a hand dismissively. "We didn't do anything. It was James, this time. See you later, then." With a jaunty wave, he vanished back into the crush of Gryffindor supporters.

*

She was walking out of her last class, Ancient Runes, when she ran into Gretchen Stoop beside the statue of Boris the Bewildered. "Hey, Gretch!"

"'Lo, Ani! Great job in the game today...you really showed that Sirius git what's what!" Gretchen's usually pleasant face was stamped with an expression of malicious approval.

Anika scratched her head uncertainly. "He's not really such a git..."

"Ani, he's a _Gryffindor_. They're all gits." 

"Now, that isn't fair," Anika said, beginning to feel rather cross. "Every House has got its share of prats--look at Severus Snape, I mean, he's in your house and he's _awful_, but you're not--and what about that wanker Ellis Pritchard? If you judged all us Ravenclaws by _him_, just imagine!"

Gretchen's expression had become oddly cold. "Anika, I'm _dating_ Severus."

"Oh!" Anika went completely scarlet. "Oh Gretch, I'm so sorry, I didn't know--I--er--"

The Slytherin forced a laugh. "You're entitled to your opinion, of course. Just don't get too tied up to those Gryffindors--you'll end up being sorry you did. Believe me." Her voice had taken on an almost sinister undertone. "And don't insult my boyfriend in front of me any more. If I didn't know _better_, I'd think that getting onto the Team had given you a swollen head." She turned on her heel and marched away, leaving Anika still trying to stammer out apologies and wringing her hands unhappily.

*

By the time she got down to Hagrid's cabin--still feeling slightly guilty, as though she were double-crossing Gretchen by going to meet Sirius--the sun was beginning to set, leaving long yellow streaks against the October sky. A slight wind stirred the grasses around the house, sending the colorful leaves spiraling from the trees through the air; the bright windows burned cheerfully against the chill night. Anika shivered, pulling her cloak closer around her.

"Hallo," said a light, soft voice from the shadows.

She whipped around, surprised. "Sirius?"

"No." The figure stepped into the light, his fair hair falling in streaks across his face. "Remus. Sorry to disappoint."

"Disappoint? Oh no, of course not!" She tucked a wayward strand of hair out of her face, blinking owlishly. "Is he...he told me..."

"He's trying to set us up," said Remus bluntly. "Thinks I need a girlfriend."

She laughed softly. "Do you?"

Remus snorted. "Interfering, arrogant little bastard, Sirius is. None of his business anyway."

"Nor any of mine," said Anika quickly. "He said he had something to tell me, though...or was he just..."

"He was going to invite you up to the Astronomy tower...James and Sirius and Peter and I--you know Peter? Peter Pettigrew?"

"I think so...he's that short boy, isn't he? A bit..." Anika fumbled with her robes, trying not to be cruel. "A bit...er..."

"Chubby," supplied Remus. "In a good way, of course. Well, we go up there, nights, just to look at the stars...you know, enjoy the night air...sometimes we just go to sleep up there. It's really a lovely place."

"...Catch a bit of hypothermia, you know, turn into little human ice cubes..."

Remus looked concerned. "Oh, are you cold? Here--" He fumbled in the pocket of his robes, emerging at last with a glass jar that seemed to be full of blue flames. She took it, wonderingly, and immediately gasped...it was as though she was being flooded with warm water, the most beautiful sensation she could imagine in the crisp night. "Oooh, Remus! This is lovely.."

He looked slightly proud. "Er, well, I'm glad...come in handy for me, it has."

"Won't you freeze without it?"

An odd, deeply sad look came into his amber eyes, and he turned away, staring pensively at the starry sky. "I'm used to the cold." 

Something about him--the strong, almost tragic profile, the shadowed golden eyes--grabbed her somewhere behind her breastbone and tugged like an unhappy child at her throat. There was silence for some time.

She took a deep breath, mentally shaking herself. "I...I'd love to come up with you, but when? We're not supposed to be out of bed at night, are we?"

Remus turned back to her, the sadness in his face swept away by a sly sort of smile. "No one ever comes up there anyway. If they do...well, let's just say we've got backup." _James's Prof-Repellant Pellets are really excellent,_ he added silently. 

He offered his hand to her, eyes glinting enigmatically. "May I?"

She slipped her hand into his, cradling the flame jar between them. "There. Used to the cold or not, I feel better sharing this."

"Yeah," he said softly, not looking at her. "Thought you would."

She smiled at the ground, her cheeks slightly pink--perhaps, Remus thought, from the brisk wind.

*

"New moon," said Sirius, his hands behind his head. "Makes everything so much clearer. Do you see--" He propped himself up on one elbow, face silhouetted against the bright pinpoints of the stars, and traced a clear shape with his finger against the sky. "Orion, that is. And there--Altair, Vega, Mira." He rolled the delicious words with his tongue, tasting them. "If I ever had a daughter, I'd name her Altair. Altair Black."

"New moon," echoed Remus. "My favorite time."

"They're beautiful," whispered Anika, awed. "I never even knew..." She barely noticed the cold flagstones against her back and head, so drawn in was she to the crystal tapestry of midnight spread out above them, impossibly beautiful and enormous. "Even in Astronomy, you never look at them quite this way." She shifted slightly, lacing her hands across her small breasts, to look at Sirius. "Where's your namesake?"

The dark-haired boy smiled, raising his hand again. "There--you see that bright one, there? That's Sirius. My mother would show it to me when I was just a kid."

"Sirius," rumbled James peacefully, "you're still a kid."

Sirius continued as if he hadn't heard. "She'd tell me that I could do whatever I put my mind to--that as long as that star shone in the sky, I'd be invincible." He was silent for a moment. An edge of bitterness crept into his voice. "My father never agreed with her."

"Bastard," said James casually. "Forget him, Padfoot."

Anika stared at the skies. "Padfoot...what's that nickname from?"

"Er..." An uncomfortable silence. "Bit of an inside joke, that."

"Ah," said Anika wisely.

Another silence.

"I think," said Remus cheerfully, scooting into a more confortable position on the chill flagstones, "that we should have a question-and-answer session. To get to know each other. We get to ask Anika something, then she gets to ask one of us something."

"Anything?" asked Peter nervously.

Sirius grinned wickedly. "I'm for anything."

"I'm not," said James firmly.

"Don't care," Remus said quickly.

"Not," voted Peter.

"For," said Anika at the same time.

They looked around at each other, laughing a bit. "All right, anything," conceded James. "Sorry, Wormtail."

"Doesn't matter," grumbled Peter. "Not like anything interesting has ever happened to me anyway."

"I get to go first," demanded Anika, giggling. "Right. Er...Sirius?"

"Fire away."

_Doesn't seem sportsmanlike to ask about the "Padfoot" thing...that's a bit too mean. _"Um...er...I can't think of anything!--all right, who's the most attractive girl at Hogwarts?"

"Professor McGonagall," said Sirius without hesitation.

"That," said Anika firmly, "is disgusting. Please make an attempt to get past your adolescent statutory-rape fantasies and give me a real answer. And you're _not allowed_ to say 'You are, Anika', because I will see straight through into your lying heart. So _there_. "

Sirius poked his tongue out at her. "That _was_ a real answer." Anika raised one eyebrow. It was a very expressive motion. "All right! Um..." He considered for a moment, scratching his chin. "Erin Piper or Sara Moyer. Toss-up."

"You don't deserve Erin," said Anika irritably.

"I don't deserve Sara either. That's why I lust from afar. Anyway, it's my turn. Turnabout is fair play, so who's the most attractive guy?"

"Purely physically? Probably Will McKinnon." _That isn't true. You're surrounded by four people who are _all_ more attractive than Will, and you know it. _ _Even Peter is, in a cute, little-boy sort of way._

_ Oh, like I'm going to tell them so!_

"Burly fellow without much brain, isn't he?"

"You aren't _jealous_ because I didn't pick you, are you, Black?"

"Don't make me laugh! Aha, aha ha ha."

"My turn again." She thought for a moment, then abruptly remembered something. "Which one of you enchanted that damn dog to spy on me?"

All rolled onto their stomachs, gaping at her. "Y--what are you talking about?" Peter managed.

"You didn't close off the receiving end of your Transmitter charm properly," Anika explained. "I kept hearing voices muttering things like 'Has she taken it out from behind the bed yet?' and 'But where's _Erin_?' and 'If we're going to be voyeurs, we might at least be _successful _voyeurs.' Bit rum, having little voices emitting from a stuffed animal behind your bed..."

"That was a pretty good imitation of me, that last one," Sirius admitted.

Anika, not looking at him, glared at the sky.

"All right, it was me. I thought it'd be funny." He watched her sideways, but there was no reaction. For the first time--perhaps ever-- a tendril of regret brushed him. "Look, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or offend you or anything."

Anika remained silent.

"I really am sorry. Honestly." With a bit of a shock, he realized that it was true. With yet another shock, he realized that she was grinning. "What? What's so funny?" Suspicion assailed him. "What did you do to it?"

"I took advantage of the open-endedness of the spell, I admit." Her grin grew wider. "Sent a Manure-Mist through the charm. When you get back to your dormitory, you might have to break out the air fresheners..."

James whacked her on the arm, filled with admiration. "Awful! And yet so perfect!"

"Pfeh," said Sirius unhappily, imagining what the state of the dormitory would be when they returned in the morning. 

"Serves you right," said Peter sanctimoniously.

"Oh shut up, Peter, you'll be smelling it too..."

"Yeah, but the omniculars were on _your_ bed...you'll be drowning in it..."

"Shut up, I said!"

"For some reason, this scene seems awfully familiar," said Remus thoughtfully. 

"All right, it's my turn," James declared, settling back on his shoulderblades and regarding the sky. "How do you and Hagrid know each other?"

Anika hesitated. "I--I'm not sure that's fair..."

"Come on, Ani, you agreed we could ask _anything_!"

"I know, but..." This involved Hagrid's secrets as well, not just her own. _[AN: Get your minds out of the gutter, you filthy pervs, before I set the skrewts on you_.] "I can't...I mean, Hagrid..."

"Has it got to do with Hagrid's...er...parentage?" asked Remus unexpectedly. "Because we know all about that."

Anika's mind reeled. "You _know_?"

"Yeah," said Sirius easily, "we found out ages ago."

"Oh..." Anika scratched her head. "Well, then. I guess you might as well know...my mum met him at a meeting...support group, you know...for halfbloods, and magical creatures living as humans." She paused, finally giving a little sigh. "Might as well tell you...can't really lie, once I'm into the question. I'm half Sidhe, you see."

There was a short silence. Finally Peter asked, carefully, "Half--Shee? Which means what, exactly?"

"Sidhe," Anika said, rather impatiently. "S-I-D-H-E. You know, the Tuatha de Danaan." As it became apparent that they had no idea what she was talking about, she smacked them all--just on principle--and explained, "You stupid British bigots, don't you know anything about Ireland? The Tuatha were the people who lived there first. Just about flooded the place with all sorts of magic...old, elemental magic. You Brits can't even approach our level of enchantment. Sometimes they come out and...er...get freaky with the local humans. They're starting to die out, you see, they have to continue their line. My mum did, but then she went and fell in love with my dad--don't see why," she added darkly. "So anyway, now you know my deep, dark secret. Hagrid and mum are quite good friends, so he's known me since I was a baby."

"So you're half-faerie," Remus recapitulated. It explained a lot--the oddly large eyes, the high cheekbones, pointed chin and ears, long fingers, and ethereally pale skin. _Deep, dark secrets..._

"Well if you'd just said _faerie_, we all would have known what you meant," said Sirius irritably. "Funny Irish words with weird spellings, I don't know..._Don't_ hit me again!"

"Not worth the effort," said Anika peevishly. "Brits. Thick as pigshit, the lot of you."

"You haven't got an accent," James pointed out. "You really Irish?"

"I was born on the Aran Islands, but I grew up in Britain...mum thought Hogwarts was a better school than Bunratty."

"We're obviously superior," said Sirius, in snobbish tones.

"_You're_ obviously a twit."

"Oooh, I might need time to heal from that one..."

"Good, does that mean you'll take off somewhere and leave us all alone? Don't let me keep you..."

"God, Sirius, you and her are almost as bad as you and James!" said Peter in awe.

"You and she," corrected Remus automatically.

"Thank you, Professor Lupin!" said everyone together, glaring at him.

Remus shrunk back, waving his hands apologetically. "All right! All right!"

*

The hills were swathed in mist, the almost celestial green of their sides melting into the grey of the air and sky. Blades of grass, heavy with moisture, crumpled under the feet of the party of wizards as they beat a path towards the ghostly dolmen at the plateau.

Aoine Monahan brushed a shank of coppery hair out of her eyes, shaking moisture out of her green uniform. "Bit wet."

"No joke." Padraic Finnigan strode up next to her, his sharp brown eyes sweeping over the tall stones. "This place gives me the creeps--let's do what we have to and get out."

"Sean'd never forgive you for being such a coward, Paddy," teased his wife Nuala, her brown hair fuzzing around her face. 

"Sean's your son, isn't he?" asked Aoine, hoisting up her cloak.

"Aye." A rare look of pride suffused the man's tawny face. "Sixteen, he is, and such a boy!"

"He'll be at Bunratty, then?"

"Aye, sixth year. Doing us proud, he is," said Nuala happily. "Your daughter--she'd be around Sean's age, wouldn't she, Michael?"

"Think so," grunted Michael Donelan, striding into the center of the hilltop. 

"'Think so?'" teased young Kieran O'Keefe, tossing his long ponytail behind him. "And you're sure you have a daughter?"

"I don't see her much." The taciturn Michael had lost interest in the conversation; he was tracing a wide circle with his wand, muttering strange words under his breath.

"I'm not ashamed to say it--place makes me a bit shaky too," admitted Connor Heaney, his russet hair in sharp curls from the wet. "Think about what happened here...those poor kids..." He shivered.

Aoine turned around, spotting their Diviner, Bridget Flaherty. She was struggling up the steep hill, her thick blond braid swinging in a heavy rope behind her. "Need some help, Bridge?"

"This place must affect her especially," muttered Padraic. "You know how it is with Sensitives, and Bridget the best mind the Ministry's got..."

"Yeah, but we need her, so and we do," Nuala pointed out, placing a protective hand on her husband's shoulder. "She'll be fine--won't you, Bridge?"

Bridget shook her head with some difficulty. "I don't like it here. But I'll be fine...let's set the containment spell in motion so we can leave."

Kieran scrubbed furiously at his eyes. "I'm with Bridge. There's too much power here...think about how it could be used."

"That's why we're here," snapped Sean Quinn, his weathered face impassive. "Michael! You've got the Circle set up?"

"Nearly," rumbled the last man, flinty gray eyes unemotional. "Too much enchantment in the air, though--disrupts me boundaries. I need Niamh for this kind of work...get the Old magic a bit under control..."

"I'm coming, Michael." Niamh Kilroy glided up the slope, ageless in bearing and movement.

They all paused at the clearing, the eerie silence affecting each and every one of them. The mist swirled in eddies and pools around their faces, lending every word an echo, and the stones loomed out of it threateningly.

Aoine was the one to break the silence. "Come on, then--"

But she had barely spoken when there was an awful scream from behind them. Bridget had fallen on something in the grass--her head snapped back, she was howling unintelligably into the mists--there was what sounded like a small explosion, and her body shuddered and slumped.

"Bridge!" yelled Nuala, dashing towards her and shaking her furiously. Her fingers fumbled for her throat--"No pulse," she breathed in horror as the rest of the team arrived behind her. "Merlin's beard, Aoine...she's dead..."

"Overload," snapped Michael, walking up behind them and running a hand through his midnight-black hair. "It happens to Sensitives...too much malevolent power around a place, it goes into their heads and--" He made a very abrupt, final motion with his hands.

"Connor! What was she looking at?" Niamh forced herself to put all personal feelings aside--this was too crucial--

Connor turned his teammate over with shaking hands. "It's a skeleton--tiny little thing--"

"The kids, Padraic," whispered Nuala, appalled.

There was a flicker between the teeth of the tiny skull. All jumped back instinctively--

A small, poisonously green snake slithered out of the skeletal mouth, like a grotesque tongue.

"There aren't any snakes in Ireland," said Connor shakily. "Salazar Slytherin took them with him when he traveled to build Hogwarts--remember, we learned about it at school. _What's going on here_?"

There was a shout from behind them. Kieran was moving towards the stones, crying, "Aoine, look, look at this--"

Suspended between the two supporting stones of the dolmen was something that looked like an enormous spiderweb, glowing faintly green against the silent fog.

_A Gate_, Aoine realized in dread, her commander's mind sifting frantically through all the knowledge she possessed that might help them. _Necromancy..._ "Kieran, _don't touch that!_"

But it was too late--the trainee's overeager hands had brushed one of the spidery filaments. A blast of green light howled over the hilltop. Kieran flew backwards and smashed into the ground, his head at an unnatural angle. The green wind whirled around them, shrieking with the voices of a thousand lost souls...

"Avada Kedavra," hissed a voice from out of the mists, echoing through the tumult. Connor slumped and fell, dead.

"We're being stalked!" barked Sean, steely hair whipping around his face. "Defensive formations, _now! _Wands out!"

Michael pulled out his wand, his eyes flashing. "I'm taking that thing out. Can't have a Gate here, can we?" Before anyone could stop him, he had sprinted out of the circle and at the gate, his wand upraised against the maelstrom. The torrent of green wind swooped towards him, but he was faster--he screamed something in a language no one recognized, his wand steady. The gate went briefly red--

_A flash of somewhere beyond the Gate--darkness and the writhing flames and so much screaming, so many people screaming--_

--then exploded outwards, the gibbering green wind dissolving with it. 

Michael flew through the air, then suddenly hit something--the air behind him seemed to have gone suddenly hard and sharp. With a sickening _thunk_, the invisible blade punched through his back and exited his stomach, leaving gaping red holes, wet and glistening.

"Stupid man," said the disembodied voice again, this time thick with anger. "That was a favorite toy of mine you just destroyed." Michael's eyes went wide; he seemed to be trying to say something, but couldn't muster up the breath. His face went slack--he was dead.

"Who are you?" screamed Aoine into the sudden silence that had returned with the destruction of the gate. The five remaining wizards had backed into a circle, wands in the defensive positions in front of their hearts.

A cold, cruel laugh echoed from the shadows. "_Imperio!_"

Padraic suddenly whipped out of the circle, his eyes blank and empty. He was raising his wand, pointing it towards Aoine, no expression on his handsome face. Aoine gasped, trying to fumble for a spell, but Nuala's reflexes were quicker. She was a Hit Wizard; she killed the enemy. That was her only task. And her training made her thoughtless: "_Avada Kedavra!_"

Without a word, Padraic crumpled onto the ground, his wand falling to the earth.

"_No!_" screamed Nuala, realizing what she'd done, her mind blank, her entire body trembling. "No, not Padraic, _no..._" she moaned helplessly. _I did this_...

Before anyone could stop her, she'd pushed her own wand up against her temple--whispered something--and then she, too, tumbled into a heap on the ground.

"_Damn_ it," said Niamh curtly. "I knew this place was all wrong. It's more than just the children."

"Show yourself!" Aoine commanded, trying to hide the shakiness in her body, her throat hoarse. 

"As you like," said the voice lazily. The mist coalesced--it seemed to be forming the shape of a body...and then it ripped apart, like paper, and revealed the man standing there. Tall, darkly handsome, he appeared to be in his forties or fifties; the black curly hair was graying around the edges. His eyes, incongruous with the human attractiveness of the rest of his face, were a bright, glowing red. Aoine felt a dull, throbbing pain in the back of her throat.

The man smiled mirthlessly, a terrifying expression that didn't reach the hypnotic eyes. "End of the line, my dear Commander. I spent a good deal of time on that Gate." He gestured, carelessly, at Michael's bleeding corpse, still hanging in midair. "_He_ had the stink of the Sidhe on him. No one else could have taken out a construction of mine...and I thought...but he was only a man, and a poor example of one at that. I hate fathers who don't care about their children."

"What do you want?" Niamh demanded; her bearing, even cornered, was still queenly.

He turned those awful eyes on her. "Ah, another with the Sidhe-stench on them. You shouldn't have meddled so much, Old One. You know what I'm after."

Aoine stared at her comrade. _Old One?_

A weary, defeated look came into Niamh's impossibly blue eyes. "The Elemental vessels."

"Niamh," said Sean quietly, his voice still steady, "what are you talking about?"

"_Yes_," hissed the man, sibilantly. "Precisely. All the Gates, opening at my command...I thought that sacrificing the children would be enough, but it looks as though I'll have to get the vessels themselves, not just their future acolytes...And as for the Gates...Luckily for me, the one you've just wrecked had already been tested...and I'm going to try out the effectiveness of the creatures I acquired within it on _you_, Old One. The other two..." His cold face flickered for a moment. "You'll be a warning."

"My God," whispered Niamh. "Then you're..."

"Niamh!" screamed Aoine. "Tell me what's going on!" But Niamh's eyes were fixed on their captor, enigmatic and unmoving.

"Yes." The smile grew slightly more sinister. "But you can call me Voldemort." He swept an elaborate bow, then stood up, raising his wand high. Something was moving in the mist...there was a swishing of long cloaks...Aoine's ears were ringing now, and she could hear something like a voice, a voice that sounded almost like her dead husband's...the man--Voldemort--was speaking again.

"I'm certain you'll appreciate these constructs, Old One. Soul-suckers...drawn from the depths of our neighbor worldgate. They won't kill you...this is something far, far worse..."

The cloaks had come closer. Her husband's voice now clear, Aoine could see what looked like a dark wall of cloth, breathing in slow rattles...

_"Aoine! Help me! There are too many of them..."_

And then her own voice, echoing everything she had heard on the afternoon he'd died, when all his defenses as an Auror had failed him and she hadn't been able to get there in time. _"I can't, Aaron! I can't..." _ The wall of cloaks moved in closer. One of them reached for Niamh, who was trembling furiously, unable even to defend herself. It was pushing back its cowl...

_"Aaron! Oh God, Aaron, can you hear me? Aaron, oh Aaron, noooo..."_

_ No..._


	4. Death in the Family

Hello, hello, hello! rave is back with more nonsense, so you've been warned. i can't seem to get the damned plot worked it properly...grr...yes i DO have a plot, thank you very much, it's just hiding from me because i threw some boots at it. i love reviews--positive, negative, neutral, the word "pork", whatever. thank you so, so so much to those who reviewed earlier bits--it's so kind and generous and i adore it. if i had any money, i would give it to you. o_O

-rave

* * *

Bryter Layter--Part III

Death in the Family

* * *

"So where were you last night, stud?" asked Erin playfully, nudging her best friend in the ribs over the quietly chattering breakfast table. "You and Sirius Black having a triumphant interlude?" 

Anika, in the middle of a yawn, choked on her scrambled eggs (a rather difficult thing to do.) "You honestly think I was---was getting it on with _Sirius Black_?! Seriously, Sirius?" She gave a little cough of embarrassment as she realized what she'd just said.

Erin shrugged, the twinkle in her eyes growing more and more obvious as she cast a glance at the Gryffindor table. "All I know is, he comes up to you after the game and asks you something and you go all red. You come back, there is a short party in your honor, and then you vanish and don't show up until morning. I'm just putting the pieces together. No sick double-entendre intended, of course."

"Of course," said Anika, hiding her burning face behind a glass of pumpkin juice. "Tell me, does _everyone_ think I'm now the official Gryffindor Groupie?"

"Oh, I don't know...the Slytherins certainly seem to be giving you quite the vicious looks, don't they?" Indeed, even Gretchen Stoop was staring at Anika with something remarkably close to hatred. It was a very unpleasant sensation.

Anika was turning away, about to return to her breakfast, when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw who it was--Professor Auriga Cygnus, Astronomy teacher and head of Ravenclaw house. A cold dread seeped through Anika's stomach--was she in trouble? Had they somehow found out about last night? Anika, usually on very good terms with Professor Cygnus, was becoming horribly nervous. There was something in the Professor's eyes...

"Could I talk to you in my office, Miss Donelan?"

"Of...of course, Professor," Anika stammered, stumbling to her feet and almost tripping over her robes. Erin watched, eyes darting from student to Professor in concern. Out the corner of her eye, Anika could see Sirius, apparently arguing sharply and animatedly with James as they pored over a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. Remus, however, was staring at _her_, worry and pain in his eyes.

Professor Cygnus had placed a kind but firm hand on Ani's shoulder, steering her out of the Hall and into the corridor where her office was. They reached it quickly, without exchanging a word; when they reached the door and the Professor pulled it open, Anika was shocked and rather horrified to see that Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore were there as well, staring meditatively into the fire. Dumbledore turned around, greeting her with a weary smile. "Sit down, Miss Donelan."

Anika sat, stiffly, in the chair in front of Professor Cygnus's desk, feeling like a wayward first-year.

Professor Cygus took a seat behind the desk, watching Anika with worried brown eyes. "Miss Donelan, we've received word..." She cast a desperate look at Dumbledore, unsure how to continue. "There's been an attack...your father..."

"Your father has been killed, Miss Donelan," set Professor Dumbledore in that kind, steady voice, full of sympathy and sadness. "He died fighting the Dark Forces, a hero. Whatever comfort that may be."

"Oh," said Anika, inadequately. There was a strange buzzing in her ears; she wished, desperately, that she could feel something when confronted with this news. _Your father is dead_, she told herself, furiously hoping for a response, anything. _Dead._ But there was nothing, nothing except that buzzing and a twinge of guilt because she couldn't feel anything else. "How?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Your father and a party of Ministry Wizards were on a mission for their department...routine containment spell. Has your father explained that to you?"Anika shook her head, mutely. "When an enchantment of great Dark power is performed, it leaves a residue that can be exploited by other Dark wizards. The entire mission of your father's department was to contain that energy, and your father was an expert at his craft. At any rate, they were going to contain the power at the site of a mass sacrifice--truly Dark magic, that is. But someone--something--attacked them. They found something else there, something they didn't expect..."

"This is our only clue to who caused it," said Professor McGonagall gently, pushing a small, glossy photograph across the table to her student. Anika picked it up in numb hands.

A tall, stone dolmen...words, scrawled in glistening letters (blood? the limp hand on the grass at the edge of the photograph seemed to suggest so) across its ancient stone:

_I am Lord Voldemort_, they read.

"Your mother owled us this morning," said Professor Cygnus sympathetically. "She wants you to be with her...these difficult times..."

"Of course." Anika still felt oddly blank. _Poor Mother...she could never deal with being alone..._"I'll go pack now," she said softly, standing up. "Thank you for telling me."

"Hagrid will give you a ride to the station as soon as you are ready." Professor Cygnus had also risen to her feet, her long blonde hair nearly sweeping the floor. "Anika...if you should need..."

"I'll be fine," said Anika hastily, drawing herself up to her full height. "Thank you," she managed again, and then quickly turned and left.

Professor Dumbledore watched her go, something flashing in his unreadable blue eyes.

*

"You're _sure_ it was Anika's dad?"

Sirius paced the floor of the Gryffindor common room furiously, running his hands distractedly through his raven hair. "Seems like the only explanation, doesn't it? God, it makes me sick, though...what kind of twisted freak would do that to all those people? And that would explain why Professor Cygnus took her away at breakfast..."

"Let me see the article again," said Remus quietly. James tossed the _Daily Prophet_ to him without a word, and Remus read:

  
  


**Party of Ministry Wizards Slaughtered**

_Co. Clare, Ireland--_The Ministry of Magic is baffled by the massacre of eight of its members from the Department of Mysteries, apparently attacked while attempting to contain the residue of power left over from the mass child-murders of the suicidal "Death Eater" cult. The Ministry has released the names of the dead: Bridget Flaherty, diviner, 32; Aoine Monahan, commander, 41; Sean Quinn, also commander, 66; Kieran O'Keefe, trainee, 24; Nuala and Padraic Finnigan, Hit Wizards, 39 and 40 respectively; Michael Donelan, containment expert, 46; and Connor Heaney, mediwizard, 43. Niamh Kilroy, resident expert on the Old Magic, was found in a coma; the Ministry has not confirmed rumors that the gruesome "Soul-Sucker" curse was performed on her. Doctors are now examining the bodies for clues, but so far only the grisly signature of the assassin has been found: the words "I Am Lord Voldemort", written in Commander Monahan's blood on the dolmen near the murder site. Whether or not these slayings are related to those of over twenty area children just three years ago has not yet been determined. 

  
  


"Lord Voldemort," Remus said aloud. "It even _sounds_ evil."

"It's intended to, I'm sure." Peter was staring at the photograph that had come with the article, a gruesome depiction of the bloodstained megalith, the grasses around it stirring in the slight wind. In the corner of the photograph, one could see a slack, white hand, presumably connected to someone's body...he shuddered. 

"You should go talk to her, Moony," said James quietly. "I know she'll appreciate it."

"Yeah," agreed Sirius, squashing the urge to tie Remus to his chair and go comfort Anika himself. "She probably needs someone to talk to right now..." _Me! Me, damnit, she needs to talk to ME!--Shut up, Sirius. No one needs to talk to you right now, least of all yourself. _

He did a slight double take--"Remus? Where--"

Silently, Peter pointed to the already-opened portrait hole.

"I _see_," said Sirius softly, grimacing to himself.

*

Anika was lugging her suitcase down through the gardens to Hagrid's hut, expending far more energy than she really wanted to and thinking dark thoughts, when she saw Remus coming towards her at a run. She dropped the case onto the ground with an oath, shook herself mentally, and dragged it upright again. "Remus..."

"Ani." He skidded to a halt in front of her. "I came to see--are you all right?"

"Fine, thanks." She gave a short laugh. "I shouldn't be fine, though, which makes it not fine." A short pause. "That didn't make any sense, did it?"

"More than you might expect, actually," Remus responded, gently taking the case from her and propping it against a low garden wall. "Sit?" She complied, letting out a heavy exhalation and running her hands through her hair.

"Let me guess," said Remus wryly. "You haven't seen your father in practically forever, but you have a sort of vague familial affection for him just on principle--you know, he's the father, you're the daughter, you two _ought_ to love each other so you've decided to do so. So now that you've found out he's dead, you realize that he never really meant much to you at all...it's like finding out your great-great-uncle is dead, or something--you feel not so bad, but then you feel worse because the fact that you feel not so bad makes you feel guilty."

Anika's mental jaw dropped. "Are you reading my mind?"

"No, just been there." Remus took her hand, almost amazed at his own daring. "Don't feel guilty. I mean, there's no real reason, is there, after all, it's not like he was so wonderful to you, if he were then maybe you could feel a little bad, but really you're only guilty on principle, which isn't a good form of guilt at all, and I'm babbling, aren't I?"

"Only a bit," she said, laughing slightly. "Thanks. I...It really means a lot that you care."

"I _do_," he said softly. "I really do."

Her laughter faded; the grey eyes raked over his face, searching for something he wasn't sure was there.

He cleared his throat. _Might as well get this over with,_ he thought hopelessly, trying not to panic. "Er...I know this might be a bad time...but I was wondering, when you get back, you know, er," he took a deep breath, "dyouwangotohogsmeadewimesometime?"

A puzzled look came into Anika's eyes. "What?"

"D'youwannago--wime," he managed, before collapsing into a coughing fit that took up a good two minutes while Anika pounded heartily on his back. "D'you--Hogsmeade, sometime? Me?"

"Oh!" Anika smiled suddenly. The effect was electric; it transformed her entire face. He noticed, surprised, that her smile was slightly crooked, and her canine teeth were set rather too high. Not that those facts made the smile any less beautiful. "Oh, well, if you want to--I mean, if that's all right with you, I think, well, I'd _love_ to, Remus..."

They grinned foolishly at each other for a moment. 

Not breaking eye contact, Remus stood, picking up her case and almost tripping over his robes. "Er...shall I help you with this, then?"

"All right," Anika whispered, firmly directing her eyes to the ground and glowing brightly pink, unable to stop grinning like an idiot.

She slipped her hand into his as they walked down to Hagrid's cabin.

*

"Finally," grumbled James, watching the two of them through the frosted windowpane. "I was wondering when he'd get round to doing that."

Peter managed a smile. "Who'd have thought _Moony _would be able to successfully ask a girl out on the very day she finds out her father died? Not I, I'll tell you that. I doubt even Padfoot could pull that off."

"Heh," said Sirius expressionlessly, staring at his hands.

James eyed him sharply, but said nothing.

*

"Yeh gonna be all right, Ani?"

Hagrid watched her worriedly as she wrestled her suitcase onto the train, breathing heavily. "Yeah, Hagrid, I'll be fine."

"Leaving in one minute!" yelled the conductor, leaning out the window of one of the front cars.

"I'm sorry...'bout yer father. It'll be tough, for yer mum, yeh know. You give her my love." Hagrid sighed, knitting his immense brow. "It must be tough for her...tough on yeh, I know, growin' up without a father..."

"Hagrid, I never felt like I was growing up without a father," said Anika softly.

Hagrid went very red.

She went up on her tiptoes, clinging to the railings of the stairs for balance, and pecked him sweetly on the cheek. "I'll see you when I get back, then."

"Ani...If yeh ever need to talk about it..."

"I'll come to you," she assured him, pulling her case the whole way into the car. 

The whistle blew insistently. Anika wrapped her traveling cloak around her body and gave Hagrid a half-wave as the door slid silently shut. Then, dragging her valise behind her, she stumbled into the nearest empty compartment and sat down, running her hands through her hair. The train wheels began to slowly chug; the platform, obscured by steam, began to slide past the window until Anika could only see the open English countryside out her large window.

When he was sure she couldn't see him anymore, Hagrid sniffed sentimentally, pulling a tablecloth-sized handkerchief out of one of the (many) pockets of his coat and blowing his nose furiously. "Well..." he muttered into the handkerchief, nose still quite scarlet. "Well...I never..."

*

Colleen Donelan was an almost unbelievably thin, almost unbelievably beautiful woman, with long pointed ears and sparkling green eyes. Her hair was long, white, and silky, falling nearly to her delicate ankles. 

It was to be expected, from a real honest-to-goodness Fairy Princess, even if she was a rather aging Fairy Princess. Anika, sadly (she felt), had inherited only her mother's skinny body build; her coloring was her father's, and her face was rather childishly boyish in a way her ultra-feminine mother could never be. There was too damn much to live up to in her household.

"Hallo, mum," said Anika quietly, dropping her things on the sofa. After taking the train to Lampeter, she'd had to catch a Muggle bus to get to their village of Sylphwood-on-Teifi; her mother hadn't had the strength to come and get her from the station. _Mother_, thought Anika with some irritation, _never seems to have the strength to do _anything. "Mum? You home?"

"Of course I'm home," said a weary, tear-choked voice from the bedroom. "There is nowhere else to be."

_For God's sake_, thought Anika irritably, _her and her dramatics. There are plenty of other places she could be._ "I'm coming upstairs. That all right?"

Silence.

Anika trudged up the stairs, pushing open the door to her mother's bedroom. Colleen was curled up on the bed, her eyes red from weeping and an untouched bowl of rice placed on the bed table next to her. Anika cast a sharp eye around the room. "Where's Toffy?"

"I don't know," said Colleen miserably. "I don't care. He came up to give me some food this morning and I screamed at him."

"That wasn't very considerate," said Anika patiently, crossing the sterile, white room to sit by her mother and gently--but firmly--helping her sit upright. "Come on, mum, at least take this housecoat off--"

"How can you think about housecoats?!" screamed Colleen, her beautiful face contorted with rage and sorrow. "Your father is _dead_! Dead!" She collapsed into a paroxysm of grief, sobbing hoarsely and clutching at her throat.

"I _know_ that, mum, honestly I do, but I hardly even knew Father, you must admit." She struggled, to no avail, with the tangled housecoat. "Come on, mum, just move your arm and I can get this off. You'll feel better."

"I won't," wailed Colleen, nonetheless moving her arm.

_You sound like a two-year-old_! Anika wanted to scream, savagely ripping off the bathrobe and tossing it on a chair. _Can't you get over it? Can't you deal with _anything_ on your own anymore?_

A piteous, childish need for attention was rising in Anika's own chest. "I had my first Quidditch match," she said forlornly, trying to smile. "It was a shutout, but we lost anyway. Mum, aren't you proud of me?"

Colleen was staring at her in horror. "Don't you even _care_?"

"Of course I do," said Anika pathetically. "I only wanted you to know. You said you wanted to know when we played for the first time. Don't _you_ care?"

Colleen raised a languid hand, shaking her head in disbelief. "Leave me for a bit, Anika. I can't...I can't deal with your apathy right now."

"It isn't apathy!" Anika smoothed her hair back hopelessly. "Mum, I only saw Dad once a year--if I was lucky. I want you to feel better. You're my mum, you're supposed to be able to wave your wand and make everything all right. I don't know what to do when you're so--so helpless! It throws everything off, and I just try to make everything normal even though it's so far from normal it's not even--I can't explain it, Mum. I only wanted to help..."

The Sidhe woman's eyes were filling with tears again. "Oh, Ani, I'm sorry..." And then she grabbed her daughter in a crushing embrace, sniffling into the shoulder of her robes. "It's hard for me..."

"I know, Mum." Anika was almost crying herself, now. "I know."

_October 16_

_Dear Remus,_

_ Wanted to see how you were doing. The funeral was yesterday--horrible scene, with a great fat Ministry official sniveling his way through the verses and the constant blowing-of-noses to every side of me. The whole time I could only think about how I could kill all these nose-blowers without being noticed. I almost laughed once._

_ There were so many people there, I could barely see my own father--I had to fairly kick my way through, which is a horribly irreverent thing to do at a funeral as you can imagine. Luckily, most of the guests thought I was just in a grief-stricken rage, which I suppose I should have been if I were a good daughter. And if he were a good father._

_ Have you heard? "Voldemort" struck again, in England this time. They say a whole family was killed--children and all--and their house was infested with poisonous snakes when the Ministry got there. All that was left of the family were their bones. _ _They don't even know why the people were killed, except maybe just as a warning. God, that just makes me sick. No one even knows what he wants. I suppose Hogwarts must be incorporating some kind of defense against curses into the DADA curriculum...? They should, anyway._

_ Er, not much else to say. I got a cat. Our house-elf, Toffy (and our house is pretty small, so we only have a house-elf because house-elves just gravitate to the Sidhe--in case you've forgotten, that's what my mother is) gave her to me, to cheer me up. She is black and she has a weird little crooked patch of white fur that looks a bit like an "M" on her head. So I called her "Moony Blues" after you (partly) even though no one will tell me what "Moony" means._

_ Give James, Sirius, and Peter all my love (and give that Severus Snape a whack with a broomstick for me.)_

_ Love,_

_ Anika_

* * *

_October 19_

_Sweet Anika (how my heart melts at the name! Even now the pen trembles as I draft those sublime syllables):_

_ You are the honeysuckle of my soul's garden, the delicious lemonade fate has tossed me after the great long de-gnoming that has been my life. Every word you say or write is like music, or fine art, or possibly a beautiful ballet, or an expertly hand-crafted Taiwanese figurine of Mickey Mouse. Your soul is forever entwined with mine; destiny favors us, and will never tear us apart, like the cheap paper upon which this note is written because I am too much of a miser to buy actual quality parchment. I am inexplicably drawn to you, like a fly to a used diaper, only more romantic. _

_ Yours with passionate long-distance kisses,_

_ Remus_

* * *

_October 20__Dear Ani,_

_ If you just got an owl with some really odd message in it: it's not from me! Honestly! It's from Sirius. I got him back, though; I told Moaning Myrtle that he'd called her pimply and said he was glad she was dead. She was wailing at him for hours._

_ Sirius told me to tell you he kicked Snape in the hallways and thought of you._

_ Hope you're well._

_ The Real Remus_

_ (P.S. Don't write for a couple of days, as I will be attending my aunt's wedding.)_

* * *

_October 24_

_Sirius:_

_ "The great long de-gnoming that has been my life"? Surely you can do better. That bloody stank. I never thought it was Remus for a minute. _

_ Glad you kicked Snape. Did he kick you back? How's Myrtle?_

_ -Anika_

* * *

_October 29_

_Ani,_

_ Slytherin flattened Ravenclaw without you. So ha. _

_ -Sirius_

* * *

_November 14_

_Remus,_

_ Sorry it's taken so long to write back! I've been visiting innumerable relatives all over the damned British Isles. I'm supposed to be going back to school November 29th, so just in time for the next Hogsmeade visit. Hurray! _

_ Would you believe they're still making me do the homework?! They've owled me all my assignments and I have to spend hours between consolation sessions with my countless uncles trying to figure out how to turn a mountain hare into a mole. _

_ I have a new person for you to kick: Sirius. Tell him to take his head out of his arse as his words are very muffled from in there._

_ How are James and Lily? And Peter? I haven't heard from them. _

_ Moony Blues is trying to eat this letter so I will send it quickly before it disappears forever down her gullet._

_ Love, _

_ Ani_

* * *

_November 17_

_Ani,_

_ Haven't really got anything to say, but am glad you're coming back soon! I've missed you. Just to warn you: I won't be at school when you get there, as my aunt has died and I'll be attending her wedding funeral._ _I'll be back on the 30th, though, so we can still go to Hogsmeade on December 1._

_ Love,_

_ Remus_

* * *

_November 20_

_Remus,_

_ The same aunt? Poor thing! What about her brand-new groom? (As they say, a new groom sweeps clean...heh heh. What the hell am I talking about?) Anyway, much sympathy._

_ Love,_

_ Ani_

* * *

_November 24_

_Dear Sir/Madam,_

_ Monsieur Remus is not at his residence at the moment. I am his man-of-all-work and general message receiver. Your message re: "The Same Aunt?" makes little sense to me, and thusly I cannot be expected to help you. You may, however, seek the master's assistance upon his return if you so desire._

_ Have removed my head from my arse as per your request, only to find that everyone around me has still got theirs up there. I long for my former pastoral state._

_ -Guess who?_

* * *

_November 27_

  
  


_Sirius,_

_ You twit. _

_ See you in two days._

_ -Ani_

  
  



	5. A Troubled Cure

Grrr, these are getting worse as they go on! I _hated_ writing this--except the last scene, that was fun. But I'm sick of filler. I want some action, damnit! And I will get action. Yehehes. Yes I will. There was actually a really great scene in here where Anika had a PMS-induced hissy fit and went completely insane, and it was very lovely and I had great amusement writing it. But it really didn't have anything to do with the story at all, so it's not here anymore. I just liked the idea of Anika having PMS. I don't know why. ^^;;;;;;

The next part should be up shortly, for all two of you who care. :P I already wrote most of it, then split it off into a separate chapter. I like it quite a bit better than I like this. First of all--prepare yourself for a shock--_something actually happens._ That's right! Something _happens_! Don't faint or nothin', now. 

Everybody belongs to J.K. except the people who don't. The short verse (which is the one part of this chapter, besides the end, that I actually liked! Huzzah!) belongs to Nick Drake's song "Time has Told Me". Rave's soul belongs to Satan for the almighty sin of making Remus slightly--SLIGHTLY--hormonal. Only slightly. Don't hurt me. *g* 

Thank you so much (again) everyone who reviewed--you seriously make my world a better place. (awwwww....*sniffle* how nauseatingly sweet. *gag*)

  
  


* * *

Bryter Layter--part IV

A Troubled Cure

* * *

It was the middle of one of a series of long, awkward pauses. 

"So," said Anika at length, taking another sip of butterbeer.

A pause.

"Er," Remus attempted, tracing obscure patterns with his finger on the tabletop.

Another pause, followed by a short lull.

"Right." Anika finished the drink, setting it aside. "Well."

"This really isn't going anywhere, is it?" Remus sighed, nearly put his elbow into his steak, gave a start and placed it firmly on the table. "I'm not very good at the whole dating thing."

"No, me neither. Maybe if we didn't think of it as a _date_ so much, it would go better." 

"That's like if someone says 'Don't think about pink elephants.' Of course you're going to think about pink elephants, even if you hadn't even considered pink elephants a possible topic of thought."

Anika eyed him quizzically, lifting an eyebrow. "Pink elephants?"

He shrugged, slightly mortified. "It was the first thing that came to mind."

A silence, this time succeeded by a few short hushes and a lapse of conversation.

Anika poked at her plate with a fork for a moment, then made a decisive movement, throwing her napkin into her lap. "Enough of this. Remus, want to go sledding?"

Remus gaped at her. "Sledding?" 

"Why not? It's snowing, and I feel like actually doing something. Come on, please?"

"I've--I've never been sledding," he admitted sheepishly. 

Now it was her turn to stare at him in surprise. "You're kidding! Never ever? And you're _sixteen?_"

He shook his head. "Sorry..."

"Come on! You'll like it, I swear." She was already fishing in her pockets for money to pay for the half-eaten food on the table. 

He pulled out his own money, thunking it in front of his plate. "But..where?"

"I don't know! A hill!" Anika was positively exuberant. "I haven't done this since I was ten. It'll be brilliant. Hurry, hurry!" She seized him by the arm, pulling him out the door of the Three Broomsticks, her face wreathed in smiles.

They stepped out the doorway into a wonderland of snow--the clouds had cleared, but wind still whipped at their hair, pinching their noses and cheeks into a rosy glow. All around them, students whooped and shouted with glee, hurling enormous snowballs at each other. Even a few seventh-years, mostly too dignified for this sort of activity, could be spotted making snow-angels over by Dervish and Banges.

They trooped down the lane, huddled under their coats. "There's a hill up this way," Anika gasped out. "You can see Hogwarts from it." Sure enough, the ground beneath their feet was definitely sloping upwards; the snow crunched under their boots, underscored by Anika's constant giggling. She couldn't help it: something about the cold air and the altitude made her giddy. At least, she rather hoped it was the cold air and the altitude.

She sneaked a glance at Remus, who was laughing himself. It was such a contrast from the way she'd seen him that night at the astronomy tower, when he'd looked so...well...tragically heroic. Now he just looked happy. Anika wasn't sure she'd ever seen him look happy before.

They crested the hill, shading their eyes against the pale winter sun. Hogwarts could be seen off in the distance, standing tall and asymmetrical against the light blue sky.

"All right," Anika said determinedly. "Lie down on your stomach." She pulled her wnad out of her sleeve, hoping she'd remembered the proper charm.

Obediently, Remus did so. "Do you really know what you're doing?"

"Absolutely," Anika assured him, lying down herself. "You ready?"

Remus, looking only slightly green, nodded. 

"On three, then. One--two--_three! Propellius!_"

They shot forward as though they had been launched from a cannon, sending out a sparkling cascade of snow behind them. Ice flew into Anika's face, spangling her eyelashes and streaming hair as she laughed aloud with pure exhilaration. "Yaa-haaa!"

"I'm going to _die!_" yelped Remus, before a large quantity of snow hurtled into his mouth. "Mm gubba _dmmm!_" He spat it out against the wind that thrashed his wet hair into his eyes, screaming half out of fear and half out of euphoria. The trees flashed by them, quicker then thought, and then--

_Whump._

There was suddenly a snowbank where there hadn't been one before. Anika and Remus lay, half-submerged in snow, giggling hysterically and trying to breathe again. 

They lay in companionable silence for some time, watching the sky, as their laughter slowly got under control. Remus rolled over. 

"That was actually...fun."

"Naw, really?" Anika grinned happily at him, her entire face wet and her hair in long dreadlocks from the ice. "I'm glad. I thought it was fun too."

"Better then picking at our food and trying to make intelligent conversation," joked Remus.

"God forbid!" Anika had started to laugh again; she had to roll back onto her back, her hands resting on her stomach. "I haven't done that in years. It was really, really lovely. Who cares if our robes are soaking?"

"Not I!" Remus took a deep breath, sagging into the snow with the weakness of laughter. "Oh, God, I can't believe I haven't done that before." He chanced a sideways glance at her."I admit, I wasn't really expecting it to be fun. But somehow...unexpected things tend to happen around you..."

Without really meaning to, their lips sort of stumbled into one another. 

And then there was suddenly a kiss, Anika's lips pressing tightly against his as her arms came up around his shoulders, her wet hair tickling his face. He closed his eyes, wanting only to taste her against him as she melted into his embrace, cold and snow forgotten.

*

_Time has told me  
You're a rare rare find  
A troubled cure  
For a troubled mind...._*

She nuzzled Remus's shoulder affectionately, bringing him back to the present. "Earth to Moony...you all right, love?"

He shook himself, picking up his quill again. The moon was waxing full; this time of the month, he was always a bit jumpy, and everything seemed to be worse this March. He couldn't explain it--he'd passed a very pleasant half-year with the Marauders and Ani, so there was no reason for this bizarre sense of doom that kept creeping over him. 

Remus grinned at her, trying to concentrate on his DADA essay. "Sorry, Ani, guess I'm just a bit tired...what were you saying? Let's get this thing finished..."

Anika gave him a sideways look, but turned without comment to her own parchment. "Okay, so like I was saying, in 1941 Grindelwald struck America for the first time, with the..."

_She's so beautiful_, Remus thought with sleepy, slow bliss, watching the bent-over black head poring over her parchment. _Not like Lily, though...Lily is beautiful in every way you expect; you just look at her and you're stricken. Ani's different. How did it take me so long to see it? _He leaned over, kissing her softly on the back of the neck.

Anika pulled away, somewhat irritably. "Come on, Moony, we have to finish this. Rookwood will absolutely slaughter me--he hates me anyway, I don't need to give him any _provocation_ to fail me."

A rather bitter memory struck Remus for a moment--Professor Rookwood, during his lecture on werewolves, staring pointedly at Remus as he explored, in great detail, the best ways to kill werewolves. Now, however, did not seem to be the time for bitter thoughts; he brushed it aside. "He hates everyone, Ani."

"Well, we should finish this anyway." She turned back to her paper.

"Mmm," he concurred, smiling sleepily at her.

She looked up at him, fixing him with the full impact of those stormy gray eyes; after a moment, a reluctant smile broke out on her own face. "I wish you wouldn't look at me like that. I can't _concentrate_ when you do that."

"Who needs concentration?" he whispered seductively into her hair, doing his best Sirius impression. She smelled good, like the earth after a hard rain. 

"_I_ do," she protested, trying not to laugh as she pushed his face away with one long hand. "Come on, stop sniffing me."

"You smell good, though." Remus's hand crept to her back, pulling her closer. "We can finish tomorrow. I have to go visit my mum in a few days...shouldn't we just enjoy ourselves?"

She finally acquiesced, letting him embrace her as she put her quill down. "Oh, you and your poor mother. And here I thought you were different. Typical sixteen-year-old boy. You all only want one thing..."

"Yep," said Remus cheerfully. "We all want _you_."

"That's not what I meant..."

"Yeah, but what _I_ said was sweeter." Remus's hands tightened around her waist, as she brought her arms around his neck, bringing her lips up to his...

The door to the study room where they had been "working" flew open, and two people, locked in a giggling, obviously very busy tangle, tumbled inside.

Anika and Remus jumped apart, Anika smoothing her hair guiltily.

The male half of the new tangle looked up, shocked, and released his counterpart. "What are _you_ doing here, Loopy?" He leered unpleasantly at the two of them through a curtain of shining black hair. "Finally scrape together enough money to get yourself laid?"

A low, animal growl escaped through Anika's clenched teeth. Remus tightened his hold on her shoulder. "I hate you!"

Snape's eyes shifted to her; for a moment, they widened in surprise. "Ooh, that hurts, Donelan. Who'd have thought _you'd_ like skinny little invalids?" He looked up at Remus, snickering. "Even _you_ shouldn't have any trouble getting her to put out, Loopy--even for a Ravenclaw, she's easy..."

"I see far more in him than I ever saw in _you_, Tall, Dark, and Greasy," retorted Anika fiercely, throwing Remus's hand off her shoulder. "Now_ sod off_."

Gretchen Stoop threw her brown hair haughtily behind her shoulder, clutching at Snape's neck. "Fine. Come on, Sevvie, let's get out of here."

"Yes, _Sevvie_," mocked Anika, sending them both looks that could kill. "Why _don't_ you get out of here? And you too, Gretchen--I guess friendship's just not what it used to be, is it?"

"I guess not," said Gretchen, softly and dangerously..

There was a moment of very tense silence.

Then Snape and Gretchen turned and were gone, the door slamming behind them.

Anika spat furiously at the floor where they had gone, as Remus watched in amazement. "I hate him! I'm going to get him back if it takes me my _whole_ life--I _hate_ him!"

"Anika, how do you even _know_ him?"

"We went to the Halloween Masque together last year." Anika was breathing heavily, still scowling at the door as though she could burn a hole through it with her eyes. "Afterwards, he almost--that is, he tried--we didn't have a good time," she finished lamely. 

"Apparently not," breathed Remus, also watching the door. 

She was picking up the books from the table now, the amorous mood broken. "I'm going to bed. He's put me in an awful mood. I'll see you in the morning, Moony."

"Right," said Remus, not looking at her. "Right. Hey--" she stopped-- "you don't wanna talk about it, or something?"

"No," said Anika decisively. "No, I don't. I don't want to think about him." She laughed, humorlessly. "That's my attitude towards life--if I don't think about it, it'll go away. Lovely way to get by. You can imagine how I deal with my family." A short pause. "Not that my mother really counts as a 'family.'"

"What's she like?" asked Remus, his curiosity getting the better of his natural tact. 

"Needy," said Anika shortly. 

"Oh." There seemed to be very little to say. "Look, I don't...I don't feel right, just letting you go off to bed hating everything."

"I don't hate _you_."

"That's something," he admitted, amber eyes slanting towards her.

"That's everything," she corrected him, and for a moment she was almost smiling.

*

The tall, dark man paced furiously back and forth, his robes swirling around his booted feet and his crimson eyes narrowed. Each footstep echoed into the cavernous ceiling of the marble chamber, reverberating through the ears of the blind angel statues who adorned its pillars.

"Listen to me, Graves. I want those runes deciphered. I don't care what you have to do--I don't care how many people you have to kill to find out the translation. Has your incompetence no bounds?"

"My Lord, I assure you--" The man who stood in front of him was kneeling, his back and shoulders trembling convulsively. "We had thought that the Wilsons would possess the knowledge needed to translate them, but they would not tell us, even after we killed their children--at our current level of knowledge, we can only produce the first stanza--"

"Graves, Graves, Graves." The Dark Lord's smooth, silky voice was thick with threat. "The first stanza was deciphered over a _thousand years ago_. I already have it memorized." He paused a moment, then seized the collar of his subordinate's robes, hoisting him a foot off the ground. Graves choked and struggled, his sky-blue eyes wide with fear. When Voldemort spoke again, it was through teeth locked tight with rage. "You--and your team--are a little _behind the times_, don't you think?"

"My Lord," gasped Graves desperately, "the quality of the etchings is sketchy at best! They are so old--the stone has crumbled--you must understand--our best restorers are working on it now! We cannot present Your Lordship with an inaccurate translation--"

Voldemort regarded his sniveling servant with total disgust, no longer listening to his frightened babble. He hated them, these crawling, servile wretches who served him out of fear and hatred, nothing more. When the runes were deciphered, he would slaughter them like the sobbing, driveling vermin they were. If there were only _one_ who could match him wit-for-wit...if even one of them served for the glory of their quest...

But they were all like Graves, young cowards with no brains and no new ideas. Only the other Vessels could match his intellect, and they were his targets and adversaries. It would be a pity, he thought vaguely, to destroy the only three people who could possibly be a match for him. The only three people who he could ever...he quelled the thought. It would be a pity.

But he would do it.

He would do it as soon as the Runes told him how.

With a snort of contempt, he hurled Graves to the floor, ignoring his moans of pain. "Get back to work, Graves."

"Y-yes, My Lord!" Graves managed, amazed at the reprieve. He turned, heading for the door, and had almost reached it when Voldemort pulled out his wand, almost lazily. 

"_Crucio._"

The Dark Lord let a smile twist the corners of his still-handsome mouth, feeding on the fear and pain that emanated with Graves's tortured screams. He drunk them in, those high, sharp, salty emotions, tasting their metallic edge. "Don't fail me again, Graves."

"_No, Master! Never!_"

Master.

He rather liked the sound of that.


	6. With the Rain

well, here it is! it's long, it's angsty in bits, it's slightly (read: very) confusing...stuff stuff stuff. don't let the second scene confuse you; assume that the foursome and Ani played some kind of wonderful trick on Snape, and you can make up the details. I had a scene describing the prank, but honestly the whole thing works better if it's left somewhat up to the imagination. as for remus's transformation-delay...er....I blame the plot contrivance monster. 

reviewers: you are all Gods/Godesses. (and special note to Cassandra Claire: were you serious about offering to b-read? cos i'd love it if you would, and of course i still really really really want to b-read your MWPP fic...good good good. yus.)

curtain up.

* * *

Bryter Layter--Part V

With the Rain

* * *

Dumbledore took off his glasses, wiping them with a fastidious care born of long habit. Minerva McGonagall watched him from across the room, her magnificent mane of untamable brown hair cascading over her beautiful face. In her hands, she held two stone tablets, scratched with rough symbols, impossible to decipher. "Dumbledore, what are these?"

"They are called the Scyldinga Runes, Minerva. Ancient tablets, apparently inscribed there some three or four thousand years ago by a tribe of Celtic druids. Lovely, aren't they? Graves tells me they're what Voldemort's after."

"But why?" wondered Minerva, completely bewildered. "What's so important about them?"

"Apparently, they're a set of prophecies. Graves has been doing his best to slow the translation process, but he can only stall Voldemort's lackeys for so long." Dumbledore sighed, massaging his temples. "He's been doing his own translation for me, and sent me these copies of the runes...he's been gradually chipping away the words on the originals, so that they're near-impossible to read, much less translate."

"What does Voldemort want with the prophecies, though?" pursued Minerva, staring at the angular, jagged script of the runes. _I feel like a stuttering first-year, asking all these questions..._

"They're the key to...something. An enchantment of great power, apparently, or he wouldn't be interested. Graves has told me he's already been experimenting with trans-dimensional gates...managed to acquire himself a few Dementors. Soul-suckers, you know." A flash of anger came into Dumbledore's clear blue eyes. "The worst species of Daemon known to man. From what Graves has managed to decipher, the procedure described in the Runes is like a Gate-opening, but on a tremendous scale...every gate within the range of the enchantment, opening at once, and the spell-caster controls every one of them. And it requires a blood sacrifice...a particular blood sacrifice..." He shook his head, obviously bewildered. "It's unclear what makes the sacrifice special...that may be included in the part of the runes that hasn't yet been translated. In any case, it's a terrifying amount of power for one person to wield..." He shook his head, looking wearier than Minerva had ever seen him. "Well, it isn't as though we hadn't had warning. The Sidhe got wind of this through their Druids years and years ago. That's why they've been retreating into their raths...a change is coming, and they know it."

"Lovely," said Minerva with dark humor. "Abandoning us."

"It isn't as though we've been particularly kind to _them_, you know," Dumbledore pointed out, sighing. "Well, we'll just have to prepare for this alone. He's gathering strength, and I don't know how long Graves can..."

There was a tapping at the window. Both occupants of the office jumped, and then Dumbledore crossed quickly to it, unlatching it. An enormous buzzard swooped in, dropped something on the desk, and swooped out again, leaving behind a stench of decay.

Minerva glanced at her superior, nervously.

Dumbledore, resolute, crossed to the parchment and picked it up, unrolling it.

Something dark dripped onto the floor.

_I found your spy, Dumbledore, _it read.

There was a photograph. Dumbledore flinched, dropping it. "My God..."

Minerva crossed quickly to it, picked it up, and then went chalk-white and half-threw it across the room. "Who could _do_ that to a human being? Who?"

"Voldemort could," whispered Dumbledore, staring out into the night sky. "Voldemort could."

*

  
  


_"We've got to get back, though," Remus had insisted. "I'll do it, but we've got to get back in time."_

_ James had waved a hand airily. "We'll get back in time. And it'll be worth it to see the look on Snape's face."_

_ Remus had sighed. "As long as we get back."_

_ "We won't forget," Sirius had promised, grinning._ _"You just know that git will be sneaking around trying to find you...we'll get him good._"

*

They sprinted across the grounds, Anika and Sirius periodically dissolving into hysterical laughter while Peter half-joined in, as though he were almost afraid to laugh. James and Remus just ran, grinning like fiends, until they reached the shelter of the Hogwarts cornerstone and simply rested there for a few minutes, breathing hard and wiping wet hair out of their rain-flecked faces. Sirius and Anika had to hold onto each other for support now, they were laughing so hard. James eyed them with ostensible reproach, trying to muffle his own laughter. "If you two ever decide to control your glee, you'll let me know, won't you?"

Anika waved a helpless hand at him dismissively, sobbing and choking with mirth. "S-Snape's...face...oh...and when he started running..."

"And...and..." Sirius managed, fairly crying, "when you dropped your cloak...and Wormtail tried to get it back...and Mrs. Norris..."

James swore. (Anika managed to control herself long enough to say "James!") "My invisibility cloak...I left it back where we left Snape. You all go on ahead--I'll go back and get it--"

Anika breathed in deeply, barely managing to contain herself. "'Salright, James, I'll get it--I'm a faster runner than you anyway. Remus, come with me."

"Is that an order?" gasped Sirius through a fizz of laughter, clutching his stomach. "Guess we know who's on top in _this _couple...It's okay, Mooniekins, I hear they sell _backbones_ cheap at Dervish and Banges..."

Anika stuck out her tongue at him and blew a long, wet raspberry. "Yeah, well, you're just _jealous_, you big chicken-head poopy-face boy-cootie. C'mon, you," and she seized Remus's arm and pulled him off with her, back towards the copse.

"If you're not back in an hour, I'll leave the Pill in your bedroom," Sirius yelled after them, shortly before dissolving into another fit of cackles.

The trees loomed above them, the patter of rain on the leaves reminding Anika of soft Welsh Saturdays in bed, listening to the rain on her roof and dreaming of magic...there was the cloak, a silvery shimmer against the leaves. She picked it up, savoring the liquid feel of the material against her bare arm.

Remus was bent over, still searching through some ferns for James's cloak. She walked up behind him and stood there for a few moments until he turned around and smiled at her, that wide, sweet smile she loved...She wrapped her arms around his neck so that the cloak she held in one hand made a silver streak down his back, and rested her head against his chest. One of his hands fell to her waist; the other stroked her hair gently, reflexively, almost in the same patterns as the now-sparse raindrops. He smelled good--wild, like pine forests and fresh snow.

"I've never been so happy," she said, into his chest. "Never. I've never had friends like James, and Lily, and Sirius, and Peter...I've never known a boy like you..."

He left off stroking her hair and tilted her chin up, so that she was looking straight into his face. The rain had faded off almost entirely, and only a few errant drops pattered her head. "I know," he said softly, bending his face down to kiss her.

The moon broke, at last, through the clouds. 

And suddenly Remus's eyes widened in horror and he pushed her away, cursing. "No! I forgot--I forgot about--Ani, _run_! Get out of here! There isn't much time--"

She stared at him, eyes narrowed in hurt and bewilderment. "Remus, what--"

But he had gone completely stiff; his limbs were beginning to shake; he threw his head back, and she realized, her mind going blank with dread, that there were fangs emerging from his mouth...

_He's a werewolf,_ she realized in a blind panic. _How come I never noticed? Every month, he wasn't going to visit his mother...he was going to transform...the way he never gave me his number--the way he wouldn't--it all makes sense--_

_And tonight, he forgot..._

She whipped around and ran, not seeing where she was going, branches tearing at her face and neck. From behind her, she heard an awful, inhuman howling, tortured and animal; if she had been a different sort of girl, she might have screamed. As it was, she forced her limbs into an even faster gait, praying that the trees would slow the wolf down, knowing that they wouldn't...

There was an enormous crash behind her. Remus had broken through the copse--he was coming towards her, faster than she could ever hope to go--she could hear the horrible breathing behind her, and the awful pounding of paws--

  
  


Sirius took a deep breath, forcing himself to stop laughing. The rain was finally beginning to taper off; Peter gave a sigh of relief, shaking out his lank blond hair with a shiver. James, meanwhile, had stopped walking and looked back towards the copse, brow furrowed.

"What is it, Prongs?" asked Peter worriedly.

James let out a long breath and turned around, smiling. "Nothing, Wormtail. I just--d'you ever have that feeling where you know you've forgotten something, but you don't know what it is? It's probably nothing...I..."

The moon broke, at last, through the clouds. 

It hit Sirius first--the full impact of what they'd done-- "_Moony_!" he gasped, staring at James in horror.

James nodded grimly. "We've got to get to Anika--Peter and I will take care of Remus, Sirius, you get her back to the castle--"

But Sirius was already racing towards the wood, transforming even as he ran, his brain howling with fear, echoing the sudden howl of the werewolf that echoed across the grounds--

  
  


Anika's feet slid out from under her on the wet grass and she fell heavily to the ground, throwing her hands out in front of her to break her fall. There was a sickening crack--_My wrist_, she realized in a haze of pain, trying to crawl forward through the mud. Her feet, entangled in the long robes, twisted, and she collapsed back into the dirt. Anika flipped onto her back, hoping against hope that the sight of her face might awaken something inside Remus--something human--

The werewolf was walking towards her now, slowly, purposefully, tongue lolling out of its fanged mouth. She could feel its hot breath on her face, and she let out the smallest whimper of fear.

Sirius had never run so fast in his entire life. His legs hurt from the strain against his canine muscles--_Anika. I've got to save Anika--_he couldn't stop. He had to get to Remus.

She fumbled desperately for her wand with her non-broken wrist, pointing it at Remus. "_Impedimentia!_" she sobbed in terror. "_Stupefy--Impedimentia--_"

The spells bounced harmlessly off the wolf's thick hide, unfocused with panic--it raised itself to pounce, howling triumphantly--

Something thundered into it from the side, throwing it to the earth--Anika stared at her rescuer, thinking at first _It's another wolf--oh god--_and then realizing that it was a dog, the biggest dog she'd ever seen. 

The two animals roared at each other, slashing furiously with claws like knives, splattering one another with mud. Jaws wide and snapping, the flash of a white eyeball, a grin of angry tongue, but now there were more animals--a stag, antlers lowered, threw the wolf out of the way, and a small ripple in the grass indicated something there--_A rat?_ wondered Anika, deciding that she was definitely going mad.

Then the dog, breathing shallowly, was rushing at her, jaws wide open. Anika closed her eyes--

She realized, after a moment, that it hadn't eaten her after all. It had seized her uninjured arm, and was racing across the grounds with her, away from wolf, stag and rat. She clutched at its fur with one hand, almost crying, and realized, oddly enough, that she recognized the dog's scent...

They reached the cornerstone. The dog opened its jaws, depositing her in the grass. She fell hard, and gave a little moan of pain, forcing air into her ravaged lungs. 

The dog gave her a strange, thoughtful look, and then began to _change_. In a moment, she realized why she had recognized its scent--

Sirius.

_ --Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs--_

His face was even more pale than usual, his eyes more shadowed and afraid then she had ever seen them. She imagined that she looked equally strange to him.

"Oh, God, Ani--I thought--I thought--" He grabbed her tightly, unable to speak. 

Anika fought her way through the numb shock that had enveloped her ever since Remus had pushed her away. "Careful, Sirius--aaah! My wrist--I think it's broken--"

"Right," said Sirius immediately, getting to his feet. His face was still ashen, but there was a look of pale determination in his eyes that Anika had seen there before. He pulled a wand out of his robes, hand steady, eyes burning. "This might hurt a bit, but I've practiced it before--you'll be alright--"

"Practiced it?" choked Anika incredulously. "_You_--you know healing charms? But--that's incredibly advanced magic--you have to go to medimagic courses--they can go awfully wrong--"

Sirius looked uncomfortable. "Well, I didn't say I knew them very well."

Anika moaned something that sounded like "Why me?"

Exasperation made Sirius short. "Look, if you want to explain to Miss Pomfrey how this happened, be my guest--"

Anika had a bizzare image of herself saying to Miss Pomfrey, _Oh, yes, I was being chased by a werewolf who used to be my boyfriend, then I was rescued by a dog but he was really my other friend, and ooh look, I'm still holding the Invisibility Cloak that belongs to my other friend, you see? Oh, and Peter's a rat! _The Miss Pomfrey image smiled indulgently, patted her on the head, said _That's lovely, dear _and promptly pulled out a straitjacket, jammed Anika into it, and locked her into the carriage straight to St. Mungo's. 

"Go ahead," she mumbled. "Do what you like."

Sirius rolled up his sleeves, praying silently, and placed the tip of his wand gently against her wrist. "Here goes--_Curatio_!"

There was a sick, painful sort of squelchy feeling in Anika's wrist. Tears started in her eyes, and she bit her lip hard to keep from crying out. It only lasted a few moments, but they were not pleasant moments. "Oooh..."

Sirius dropped to his knees beside her, his wand falling to the ground. "Flex your fingers."

His voice was hard, frightening. Anika did what he told her to. "It's better, Sirius...honestly, it doesn't hurt anymore..." and then, sharply, "Sirius! For God's sake stop looking at me that way. I'm fine."

"This is my stupid fault," said Sirius expressionlessly. "I did this, it was my idea."

"Stop it."

"You could have been killed."

"Stop it!"

"If I hadn't suggested--"

Anika slapped him. He gasped, grabbed his cheek, and stared at her in amazement. Her face was burning with rage, her eyes bright. Sirius thought, rather stupidly, that she looked magnificent.

"Shut _up!_ I told you to _stop it! _This wasn't just your fault, it was everyone's. Yours, mine, James's, Peter's, and Remus's. Even Snape's, just because he's a stupid prat and he drove us to it. You're being dead useless, just sitting there feeling bad for yourself because you, along with an awful lot of other people, screwed up!" She took a deep breath. "Thanks a lot for fixing my wrist, or I never could have done that, by the way."

Sirius opened his mouth to say something, but she stopped him. "Shh. I'm afraid you'll say something dumb again. I only wish--" a wistful look crossed her face-- "that you'd trusted me enough to tell me about being Animagi...but I understand why you didn't. That's why they all call you Padfoot, then?" 

Sirius nodded.

"Hmm. You didn't look like a Padfoot, you know. You were all big and fluffy and huggable, like--like a Snuffles, or something. Yeah, some cute, fuzzy name, like Snuffles--"

"You didn't look so charmed when you thought I was going to bite your _head_ off--"

"I never thought you were _going_ to bite my head off! I--" Something cut her off. There was a rustling coming from the direction of Hagrid's hut.

Sirius and Anika looked at each other for a moment, panic-stricken. "It's Hagrid--I bet you anything he heard Remus howling--"

With immense relief, Anika remembered what she still had clutched in one hand. "James's cloak! I brought it back with me! Quick--get under--" She pulled him into a bush, threw the shroud over Sirius and ducked beneath it herself, tucking it carefully under their legs so that it was sure to cover every inch of their bodies. "And don't you _dare_ start laughing for no reason," she hissed at him.

"Ow--your elbow's in my ear--and you're pulling my hair--bitch! You're doing that on purpose!"

"_Hush!_" She tried, unsuccessfully, to rearrange herself into a more comfortable position.

The crunching sounds of Hagrid's enormous feet on the leaves came closer, and Anika, listening carefully, realized that he wasn't alone--Fang was obviously with him, and someone else.

"--jus' makin' trouble in the forest again, Professor--I can 'andle it..."

"I do not believe that was an ordinary wolf, Hagrid," said a sharp, curt voice.

"Oh _no_," breathed Anika, "it's Rookwood--"

Sirius groaned, almost inaudibly.

The footsteps came to a halt, not three feet from where Anika and Sirius crouched, frozen.

"Professor, yeh doan think it's Remus, do yeh? He mighta gone back down the tunnel--did that las' month--"

"It may well have been the Lupin boy," said Rookwood coldly. "But I do not believe he has simply 'gone back down the tunnel', Hagrid. Those friends of his--"

"Now, then, Professor," said Hagrid sharply, "Yeh can' be saying James and Sirius would ever..."

There was a short pause, and Rookwood said finally, "Well, perhaps it is only a wolf, as you say. All the same, Hagrid..."

"I'll get rid of it, Professor," said Hagrid smartly. "Come, Fang."

But Fang would not come. He had caught Sirius and Anika's scent in the bushes and, bewildered, was trying to paw through them to his old friends, unsure why they hadn't come to greet him yet. 

"Go away, Fang," Anika whispered desperately, "_go away..._"

"Fang! Come on, boy--No need ter worry, Professor, 's probably just a rabbit--Gerroutofit, Fang!"

Through the cloak, Sirius patted the dog on the nose, murmuring, "All right, boy...go with Hagrid..."

Fang, whimpering, allowed Hagrid to finally drag him out of the bushes. Anika let out a silent sigh of relief as the three sets of footsteps moved out of earshot.

"Do you think Remus and the rest are okay?" she asked Sirius the moment nothing more could be heard. 

"James can take of himself--and Peter. As for Remus...he'll be all right. They'll probably go out to Hogsmeade for a bit...in the morning, they'll sneak back in the tunnels and get to breakfast. That's what we usually do."

"Out to _Hogsmeade_?!" yelped Anika. "Are you kidding? What if he gets away and bites someone?"

"Hasn't happened yet," said Sirius, shrugging airily. He seemed to have recovered somewhat from the shock of Remus's transformation.

"Do you four do this every month?"

Sirius looked straight at her, his deep black eyes holding hers. "It's the only way we could be friends to him, Ani...can't you see that?"

There was a short pause, during which Anika began to wonder how she had forgotten the full impact of those eyes, and Sirius (typically) tried to avoid the thought of how nice she looked in this lighting by wondering how they were going to get back to their separate towers.

"Come on," she managed, at length. "We should get back inside...get some sleep..."

"How are we going to get to the dorms?" wondered Sirius aloud.

"I was thinking we would go _through the tunnels_, just like we did _getting out_," Anika said, in the same slow, patient tones she might use with a young child or an extremely stupid toad.

"No, idiot," snarled Sirius. "I meant, we have to go to completely separate dorms...there's only one cloak...and the Fat Lady's been told not to let anyone in at this hour. What are we going to do about that?"

Anika raised one eyebrow thoughtfully.

"Oh, no," moaned Sirius. "I know that look..."

*

The Ravenclaw common room was far from uncomfortable, but Sirius still didn't get any sleep. Curled up under the invisibility cloak, he knew he couldn't be seen--but it didn't mean he couldn't be felt. One amorous couple had actually sat on him in the middle of the night, meaning intense embarrassment and muffled yelps for them, and a night spent _under_ the couch for him, just in case they decided to come back. They had spent another half-hour searching for Peeves, and then had made hasty and extremely mortified exits to their separate dormitories.

Sirius lay on the sparkling silver carpet and stared at the ceiling until morning. It was decidedly more interesting than one expected a dormitory ceiling to be; the stone shifted around impatiently, then got bored of being stone and was wood for a while, then decided to relax a bit and became a white steam. Sirius rather wished the floor would do the same--as stone, it was rather discomfiting, even with the carpet as padding, and dug into his shoulder blades. At around five in the morning, he got sick of lying there, got up, and wandered (grinning inwardly) up to the girls' dormitory.

The door was partly open; he suspected Anika had been too exhausted, too confused, too overwhelmed to bother with whether or not it was shut. He slipped inside, not disturbing it at all, not making even the slightest noise on the thick dormitory rug.

Anika's was the bed by the window. He padded over to it, something drawing him to her. 

She was not asleep. Grey eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, blinking every once in a while. Her face was still filthy from the night before, but Sirius saw something in it that surprised him--long, clean tracks. Tears.

_Poor kid,_ he thought, something in him reaching out for her, and before he knew what he was doing he was stroking her cheek--

She sat straight up and screamed.

_Idiot! _he cursed himself furiously, diving under the bed. _She was awake--you knew that--_

The other girls in the dormitory were slowly waking up, yawning. "Ani, what--"

"Sorry," mumbled Anika, embarrassed. "I...had a bad dream." Swinging one leg unobtrusively under the bed, knowing who would be under it, she kicked Sirius in the eye. _What was he doing? Scared me out of my wits..._

She swung her feet out of bed. The other girls were already fast back asleep; she could hear Erin's soft snores. Ducking under the bed, she took a swipe at where she imagined Sirius to be. "Take that stupid thing off," she hissed. 

It was a very odd sight--first, Sirius's face appearing out of nowhere, then his neck and shoulders, then his chest and finally--with some difficulty--his legs. "Awfully cramped under here," he said with an attempt at an innocent grin.

Anika, however, said nothing more. She seemed oddly subdued. "I'm going to take a shower. Then I might have an early breakfast. You can come if you like."

"To the shower?" asked Sirius hopefully.

Anika didn't even rise to the bait. It worried him. She turned away and stood up, so he could only see her feet and ankles. They were devastating ankles.

_Damnit, Sirius! _he thought, hating himself. _Stop it--she and Remus were meant for each other--stop making things worse for her. _

A soft thud told him that she had entered the bathroom, and a moment later, the hiss of water through the pipes signaled the shower. Sirius rolled out from under the bed, pulling the cloak on, and tiptoed down to the statue hole. Anika would come in a moment; he would just wait.

Anika rubbed her hands fiercely through her short, tousled hair. The shampoo ran down her face and into her eyes, which stung; she didn't care. It disguised the tears that were already starting in her eyes, and distracted her from the throbbing ache in her throat. _Oh, Remus..._ She'd read enough about werewolves to know how painful his transformations were--bones melting and fusing in strange ways, skin ripping out in new places, organs rearranging...and he had never told her. Never wanted her to pity him.

She turned off the shower quickly, shuddering in the sudden cold, and pulled a towel from the racks above the stall. Wrapped it around her body. Pulled herself in front of the mirror and stared at her own haggard reflection. _I failed him. By running away, by making him face that pain all by himself--I failed him._

"You poor thing," said the mirror with unexpected gentleness. "Rough night, dear?"

Anika nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Poor thing," said the mirror again, and was silent. Anika muttered a quick cosmeticus charm, and her hair whiffled briefly under a warm wind and went dry. Not feeling like styling it, she pulled it into a tight ponytail, scrubbed hard at her eyes, and pulled on her robes before heading downstairs, to where Sirius waited.

At first glance, the common room seemed empty. The quiet gray light of morning streamed through the enormous windows, making everything seem tranquil and clean, as though last night had never happened. 

"Sirius?" whispered Anika softly. 

There was a faint rustling noise, and the sound of footsteps.

"Stop it," she said abruptly, shivering.

Sirius pulled down the hood of the cloak. Anika gave a soft, involuntary scream and quickly clapped her hands over her own mouth. It was hard to tell which was worse--the disembodied footsteps, or Sirius's disembodied head. She was beginning to understand how Snape had felt last night, when Peter had accidentally trod on the hem of the cloak, revealing Anika's face. At the time, she'd been making horrible banshee wails in an attempt to frighten the living daylights out of Snape; it had worked even better than expected. School rumor said he'd spent the entire day today shaking, spilling things, and jumping at small noises.

Sirius pulled the rest of the cloak off, folding it under his arm. That was better.

"Are you going to be all right?" His almost-purple eyes were worried.

She looked away. "Let's get breakfast."

His hand closed around her wrist, and she looked up in surprise. "_Ani_, tell me you're going to be all right."

She pulled herself free, moving toward the statue passage. "I can't."

They stood there for a moment, staring at one another. Finally Anika said, trying not to cry, "What was it like for you?"

Sirius's brow creased for a moment. "What? Oh--it was--"

For a moment, the familiar, comforting expression of absolute irritation crossed Anika's face. "Not _that_, you dimwit. When you found out about--Remus."

Sirius took a deep breath, trying to cast his mind back. "I remember feeling betrayed...feeling untrustworthy...feeling like Moony and I could never really trust each other again. And then I felt like an idiot, for not figuring it out. Then I felt like I had to do something...had to make it better for him. Had to remember that he was still Remus, there was just a side to him I didn't know about. He's the same person." He paused. "Did that make any sense?"

"It sounded about like how I felt, so I'd say no. Nothing about this situation makes sense..." She shook her head. "I still love him, Sirius. But he's afraid...afraid that things will change--how could they not change?" She sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. I'm being awful this morning. Come with me downstairs."

*

_Rain's the way you move now  
Sun the way you seem  
Leaves the way you wonder  
Flowers the way you dream  
This was our season, and we said it couldn't end  
But my love left with the rain_

*

The house-elves were already up and working, and were happy to see someone to give food to. Sirius and Anika grabbed buttered toast and bottles of pumpkin juice and went out to the lake. The sky was still pink-orange; a light, grey mist hovered around the tops of the trees around them. The soft wind, the occasional echoing call of a bird, and the soft rippling of the lake were the only sounds. They walked in an aimless circle, eating in companionable silence, until they reached the north shore for the third time. 

Anika threw her last piece of toast into the lake, where it bobbed for a few moments before an enormous tentacle snaked lazily up out of the water and pulled it into the depths. "Where does Remus go?"

"When he transforms?" Sirius watched her for a moment. She wasn't going to be deterred, and he hated hiding the truth from her. "There's a tunnel under the Whomping Willow--it goes straight to a little house in Hogsmeade. That's where he goes."

There was an odd glint in her eyes. "How do you get in?"

"The knot on the trunk, you just poke it and--" He stopped suddenly. "You're not going to try to sneak in! After what happened last night?"

"Sirius, stop trying to be my mother. It's daylight--he'd be normal, he'd be himself, I could tell him--tell him--" Ideas seemed to be failing her. At last, half to herself, she murmured, "What would I tell him?"

Sirius watched her with miserable eyes, not knowing what to do, and--for perhaps the first time in his life--not knowing what to say.

*

Anika didn't speak much over the next few days. She still sat with James and Sirius during Arithmancy, but she rarely raised her hand to volunteer answers, and only spoke when spoken to. They understood, but it didn't make them feel any better. She left, quickly and silently, after class; Sirius was about to go after her when James put a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Remember how important Remus is to her," James said softly. "Let her have some time." He bit his lip. "But I wish she'd let us talk to her."

Sirius stared at his friend's retreating back, fist against his teeth. "So do I."

"What's the matter with your half-blood groupie, Black?" asked a nasty, grinning voice from behind them. "Seen herself in a mirror, has she?"

Sirius turned around with slow, easy menace. "It's right under that disgusting-looking nose of yours, Snape...if you can't figure out why, I don't see why I should tell you. Go on, James. I'll catch up." James left, watching him in confusion.

"Is this about her mysteriously missing boyfriend? Bet he just had to get a breath of unpolluted air...she's the sort of girl you get tired of easily...I ought to know."

Something snapped in Sirius's mind and a growl issued from deep in his throat. He fought to keep himself under control...he'd never hated anyone like this, never...he'd make Snape pay... "You want to know what happens to Remus? Fine. Poke the big knot on the Whomping Willow with a stick tonight, and you'll find out all right...unless you're afraid..." 

Sirius turned on his heel and left, leaving Snape staring openmouthed after him, and grinned to himself as he jogged down the hallway. This ought to be amusing.

*

Dark fell early that day. This was good, Sirius thought; it meant revenge would come sooner. Sure enough, as he watched surreptitiously from across the hall, he saw Snape eating faster than he ever had before, then sneaking out the door to the Slytherin hallway. He couldn't help a grin spreading over his face.

"Wha' ishit, Pa'foo'?" asked James, mouth full of potatoes. He swallowed quickly, and tried again. "What is it, Padfoot? You're looking awfully pleased with yourself."

Sirius nodded in the direction of the Slytherin hallway door. "Can't wait to see that slimy git get what's coming to him."

James's eyes narrowed. "Padfoot...what'd you do?"

"Nothing. Nothing much, that is." Sirius's grin widened. "Just told Snape how to get in to Moony."

James sprung to his feet, nearly knocking the whole table to the floor. The other students eyed him, irritably. "Padfoot, you'll get him killed!"

"So?" Sirius hissed back. "Stinking, filthy scum--world's a better place without him. Didn't you _hear_ what he was saying about Anika? The things he's done to Remus? All the times he's bullied Peter--and what about you, hasn't he done enough to you?"

"But Sirius, you can't--you can't want him _dead?_" 

Sirius stared straight ahead, eyes blank, that faint, dangerous smile still on his face.

James swore and ran off towards the doors.

Peter stared, surprised. "What was that about?"

"Nothing," said Sirius casually, getting to his feet. "I'm going upstairs."

*

James was running as he'd never run before, towards the Whomping Willow. The grounds were dark and menacing in the full moonlight, the trees bent and twisted like a witch's hands. He could feel his heart pounding painfully in his chest; he might not like Snape, he might even hate him, but he couldn't let him die...not just for his sake, but for Sirius's, and Remus's...

And there was the willow, just ahead. Its branches flailed and whipped against the air, and it had obviously been disturbed just recently. There was still time, James thought with vague hope, still time.

He ducked between the thrashing branches to the knot and whacked at it with his fist. The tree froze; James leapt through the gap in the roots and dashed down the narrow tunnel, the hard-packed dirt flying out from under his feet. "Lumos!" he muttered...the faint, flickering light of the wand provided little comfort in the dark, claustrophobic space. It felt like he had been running for hours; his lungs were on fire, his muscles screaming at him to stop--and then there was a dark figure ahead of him, jogging through the twisting corridor as fast as he could.

"Snape!" howled James hoarsely. "Stop!"

The figure turned around, surprised. James had reached him now--he was grabbing the sleeve of his robes, trying to pull him back down the tunnel--"You've got to get out of here, you don't know what you're getting yourself into--"

Snape wrenched himself free, the quavering wandlight making his expression very unpleasant indeed. "Get off me, Potter--I'm going to figure this out, and you're not going to stop me--"

A howl echoed down the corridor, agonized and harsh. Both boys looked up instinctively--there, sillhouetted against the bright end of the tunnel, was the figure of--

"_Shit,_" gasped Snape with great feeling. 

But James hadn't stopped--he had taken another handful of Snape's robes, and was hauling him bodily down the shaft. Snape caught on after a moment, and started to run almost as fast as James did, the light from his wand wavering crazily over the walls.

They shot out from between the roots at top speed, James slamming his palm against the knot on the tree as they did so, and leaned against the tree trunk, panting. Snape was watching James as though he'd never seen him before. There was a very long silence.

Finally Snape said, curtly, "What'd you do that for?"

James looked at him in surprise. "Come on, Snape...we may not be best friends--hell, I don't even _remotely_ like you--but I don't want you dead..._Nox_." The wandlight went out.

"Why not?" asked Snape mulishly, obviously not wanting an answer, as he extinguished his own wand.

"Don't be thick," said James tersely. "I know it's hard."

There was another long silence.

"I'm going back to the castle," James stated finally. Without another word to Snape, he set off across the grounds towards the Hogwarts building--and all of a sudden, a face loomed up at him out of the darkness. 

"Well, well, well, Potter," said a silky, vicious voice. "_This_ should be an interesting story."

It was Professor Rookwood.


	7. The Joining

it's the permanently missing CHAPTER SEVEN YAAAAAAY. hooray. 

  
  


* * *

Bryter Layter--Part Seven

The Joining

* * *

The candle flickered in its holder, dripping wax onto the scratched surface of the desk. Anika scribbled furiously on her parchment, stifling a yawn as she watched the spiders in their jar doing an impromptu ballet. _Nothing_, she thought tiredly, _nothing different._

Moony Blues, who was sleeping on top of a stack of papers, sneezed and waved her paws at invisible insects.

Anika hoped Dumbledore would owl her soon. The Ministry wouldn't let her use non-arachnid test subjects, but there was no way she could properly research the resistant gene without a control subject. 

"_Finite Incantatem_," she snapped at the spiders, and they promptly stopped dancing and collapsed, thin legs waving helplessly in the air.

She sucked thoughtfully on her quill, the ink-stained fingers of one hand drumming rhythmically against the desk as she read over the first draft of the second paragraph of her application.

_...However, it has been observed that the occasional wizard, less than one in ten thousand, can completely resist the effects of the curse. The purpose of my work research is to isolate the gene and/or characteristic that permits such resistance create a sort of "vaccine" for the Imperius curse from genetic extractions isolated from these few wizards. Could such an extract be created, the threat of the curse would be entirely annulled. Unfortunately, difficulty lies in locating these rare mutated genes; without a human test subject, it seems unlikely that the research can continue any further. Professor Albus Dumbledore . . . _

_ Now what? "Professor Albus Dumbledore apparently has one of these genes, may I please drag him to my underground lair, sample his blood, inject him with strange substances, and put one of the Unforgivable Curses on him?_" She groaned aloud, banging her head against the desk. _I'm nineteen years old! I should be outside right now, getting fit and tanned and beautiful. The streets should be strewn with the bodies of men shooting themselves for my sake. I should _not_ be cursing spiders in a basement._

There came a tapping at the door. "Come in," she called, laying the quill down.

"Professor Donelan?" The door creaked open, torchlight from the hallways flooding into her dark workroom. 

_And another thing: no one should be calling me "Professor," _she thought darkly. _People should be calling me 'babe' and 'sweetheart', or at _least_ 'Ani'_. "Yes, Rinako?"

"This just came for you . . . d'you want to read it now?"

"Yes, of course," Anika said quickly, drawing herself up and reaching for the letter that her co-worker held. "Thanks."

"No problem. Say, you want something to drink? Dr. Watson went out for butterbeer for everyone, and there's a giant crate upstairs. Come up for a bit? It'd be good for you to get some fresh air."

Anika stretched hugely, yawning and feeling the bones pop in her shoulders and spine. "Yeah, I think I will. Hang on, let me read this; I'll be up in a couple minutes."

"All right." Rinako retreated, closing the door behind her.

It wasn't as though her months at the Observatory had been unhappy ones. The rent was cheap, the lab was serviceable, and if it was a bit dark, at least there was an up-to-date air circulation spell. Still, she sometimes wished she'd taken up some line of work that involved tropical climes, adventure, excitement, and perhaps a daily jog.

_You didn't _have_ to take this job, you know,_ she reminded herself, watching one spider scuttle up the side of its jar and then fall back into the bottom of it. _You wanted to make a difference._

_ I didn't want to make a difference, I wanted to run away_. After she and Sirius had...stumbled over one another, after Remus had left, she'd nearly broken down. It was my fault, she'd told herself. It was my fault, for trying to make friends too fast, trying to be too much to too many people. And so she'd simply stopped talking to all of them, all her Gryffindor friends.

Well, she could say "simply" now, but it had never been simple. Advanced Arithmancy had been a nightmare--they tried to talk to her, she barely replied, she left feeling like the world's biggest ungrateful failure and cried herself to sleep.

At graduation, she hadn't even said goodbye to them. She'd known she might never see any of them ever again, and she'd just...left. 

She regretted it now. Often she longed to hear Sirius's vibrant laugh, to see again the way Remus's eyes seemed slanted in a certain light, to see Peter grin shyly and blush bright red the way he did when anyone complimented him--to watch James and Lily, heads bent close together, poring over some piece of unimportant piece of parchment and sneaking glances at one another when each thought the other wasn't looking.

Graduation hadn't been a happy day, in any event. Voldemort's constant presence, the guard of armed wizards who actually followed them to the reception to protect them from Death Eater terrorists, the conspicuous absence of at least three professors killed in battle against Voldemort...all had made the departure nothing but gloomy. And then, hardly a week later, Colleen Donelan put a bullet through her head in a dirty motel room near Leeds. She'd always had a flair for dramatics; why use a simple Avada Kedavra when one could harness the pure violent beauty of a gunshot?

Anika hadn't even gone to the funeral. She'd packed her things, caught a ferry to Shannon, and taken up work as a waitress on Achill Island, up County Mayo way. And then she'd felt the need to do something big, to help accomplish something in the world.

_So I took up spider-cursing_, she thought with dark humor.

Anika shook herself. The past was unimportant now; this letter could be the key to her future.

Anika slid a fingernail into the slot of the envelope and pulled out the paper inside.

  
  


_Anika M. Donelan_

_Achill Observatory_

_Co. Galway, Ireland_

  
  


_Dear Anika,_

_ I was greatly intrigued by your letter. The idea that a genetic abnormality might be the basis for resistance to the Imperius curse is a very interesting one, and though I would love to help you research it further, business ties me to the grey shores of England. However, should you have the time and the inclination to travel back to Hogwarts, I have a proposal for you._

_ Voldemort's presence has become an increasingly threatening one, and your work might be an important breakthrough in resisting him. Independently of the Ministry, an alliance has been formed which is dedicated to frustrating Voldemort's actions. Would you be willing to align yourself with us? It is a risky business; certainly, our league is not for the faint of heart. However, I do not doubt you would be up for the task. Here, you could perform your research with funding drawn directly from Hogwarts's expenses, and you would certainly have no lack of test subjects. _

_ Will you join us?_

_ Awaiting your answer as soon as possible._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Albus Dumbledore_

  
  


Anika stared at the letter, amazed. An alliance, forming at Hogwarts? And Dumbledore wanted _her_ to join? Certainly it appeared so . . . and funding drawn directly from Hogwarts's bulging vaults . . . no more waitressing at the local wizarding pub . . . and best of all, no more spiders in dark basements. 

She had to clamp down hard on herself to keep from leaping for joy as she scribbled a quick note on a spare piece of parchment, heart singing. 

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_ I'll be there as soon as possible. My lab is very small, and it won't take me much time to get packed. _

_ Thank you so much._

_ Anika Donelan_

  
  


*

Anika felt an amazing sense of deja vu as she stepped off the train at the Hogsmeade station; this time, however, there was no Hagrid to greet her, to herd her off into a horseless carriage with all her friends. All_ my friends_? she thought with dark humor. _I had seven, tops. And that was before..._

She walked briskly down the platform, Moony's cage slung over one shoulder and her trunk floating obediently behind her. Ahead of her, she could see the long line of broomsticks for rent--_probably horribly expensive_, she thought dismally, checking one price tag and flinching. There was only one model she could afford--a ratty old '69 Kestrel, shedding twigs like rain. With an inward shudder of apprehension, she gave her thirteen Sickles to the grinning little man behind the desk and pulled the broom off the rack, tethering her magically lightened trunk to the back of it and quickly pushing off. It gave a little rumbling moan of mechanical failure, like a dog unsuccessfully trying to mate with a goat, and nearly threw Anika off as it creaked into the air.

_This won't be fun_, thought Anika sadly, trying to straighten the broom out and failing miserably. She managed to touch down in one piece on the Hogwarts grounds, but the broom had a faulty braking charm which sent her pitching head over heels onto the lawn, her trunk skidding behind her. Cursing furiously, she scrambled to her feet, trying unsuccessfully to pick up the pieces of her lost dignity.

"Can I help you?" asked a calm, civil voice from behind her.

"No, thank you," said Anika as composedly as she could, fuming at the broom. "I'm f--"

She turned around, and nearly fainted.

"_Sirius?!_"

* Sirius had been sitting under a tree, staring at the burning pattern of sky through the leaves and thinking about nothing in particular, when he heard the broom. It was truly a horrible specimen: sounded like a '69 Kestrel to his experienced ear, and a damaged one at that. He crossed the grounds quickly; Dumbledore had told him to expect a visitor, a research scientist from Ireland here to join the Alliance, codename Ophelia. He'd been told to greet her.

As soon as he saw the broom's angle of descent, he broke into a jog. From the creaking noises, it sounded like the braking charm might be malfunctioning, and he wanted to be sure no one was hurt. Sure enough, when he was less than fifty feet away, the broom screeched to a halt in midair, and a black-robed figure hurtled over the front of it, slamming into the ground. She picked herself up quickly, muttering dire things, and turned her back to Sirius, apparently preoccupied.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Can I help you?"

Her shoulders stiffened--she obviously hadn't seen Sirius. "No, thank you, I'm f--" 

She turned around, smoothing down her robes, and suddenly froze. His mouth dropped open, his brain instantly recognizing those wide gray eyes, that glowingly white skin. "_Sirius?!_" she managed, her whole body freezing up.

Sirius choked. "A--Ani?!" She looked so much older, so much more mature--could a year, two years, have made that much difference? He could only stare, taking her in as she, too, took him in: eyes black, twisted with violet--face full and handsome as ever, still tall and wiry, and mouth open in disbelief--

"Dumbledore didn't--" they both gasped out at the same time, staring at each other as though they could devour one another with their eyes alone. And then they both stopped, and before Anika knew what she was doing she had thrown herself onto him and was hugging him tightly, laughing into his shoulder and pounding his back excitedly. "You look so _good_!"

"You do too!" he fairly screamed into her hair, pressing his hands against her back, inhaling her scent like a drowning man gasping for oxygen. "Ani, you--"

"I _know_ I didn't talk to you all through seventh year," she said seriously, pulling away from him, "and I'm sorry--but it's so amazing to see you, and I wish someone had _told_ me, and I hope you don't think I didn't want to be friends with you, I did, but things were so strange and confusing. Can't we be friends now?"

"I don't see why not," said Sirius, grinning madly. "Oh, Ani, I can't believe it's _you_!" They were still clutching one another, and then Sirius was twirling his friend around in the air, her robes flying out behind her as she threw her head back and laughed and laughed.

*

Dumbledore had given Anika her own little tower workroom in the West tower, so different from the musty basement she'd been renting at the Observatory. First of all, it was always filled with sunlight from the enormous windows that took up most of the walls; secondly, it was so...comfortable-looking. There was a soft, cushiony bed in one corner, long white curtains draping the windows, an iridescent silver carpet, inches deep, on the floor. The only sign that it was a workroom at all was the desk in the corner, which had already been stocked with plenty of parchment, ink and quills. There was even a little private bathroom, with a lovely china bath at least eight feet long taking up one wall.

She surveyed it all, hands on hips, with great pleasure. Moony had already found herself a snoozing spot on the windowseat and was making admirable use of it, soaking up the sunlight like a feline sponge. Anika had changed out of her traveling robes as well, into a comfortable gray tank top and her favorite ripped jeans. It was hot, even for July, and under normal circumstances she would have put on shorts, but the fact was that she hadn't shaved her legs in at least a week, and with Sirius around...well..._My vanity is just as hyperactive as it ever was_, she thought with some relief. _Maybe two years of spider-cursing hasn't permanently damaged me after all._

She pulled open her trunk, pulled out one of her records, and tapped it surreptitiously with her wand, her shoulders relaxing as the music flowed into the room, the sweet chime of the guitar, simple and pure, and the low, husky voice. She sang quietly along:

  
  


_Know that I love you_

_Know that I care_

_Know that I see you_

_Know I'm not there_

  
  


There was a knock on the door, and she turned, calling, "Come in!"

_This_ door, she noted with even greater delight, didn't even squeak on its hinges as it opened and Sirius poked his shaggy black head inside. "The rest of your things came. I've lugged them all the way up the stairs--the least you could do is help me get them inside."

"But I'm only a girl," said Anika helplessly, fluttering her eyelashes. "You know, the weaker sex, the Caesar-salad-eating gender. That's a job for a big strong man."

Sirius glared at her ineffectually. "Funny, I could have sworn that a second ago, when we went down to the dining hall, you were bolting down roast chicken like there was no tomorrow."

"I'm a _growing _girl," said Anika self-righteously. "And I happen to like chicken." She pointed imperiously at the door. "Go on, boy, fetch me my robes."

"Yes, _ma'am_," said Sirius teasingly, bowing his way out the door and re-entering within a moment with a huge trunk dragging behind him. He dropped it unceremoniously on the floor, dusting his hands off. "Damn! What's _in_ there? Peter?"

"Peter," said Anika in solemn tones, "sleeping in my trunk after an enormous breakfast of drugged kippers and sausage. I was going to kidnap him and perform horribly invasive medical experiments on him, but you've foiled me. Curses. Meddling kid." She hauled the trunk to the armoire in the corner and pulled it open, unpacking piles of clothing onto the bed.

Sirius sidled up behind her, peering over her shoulder. "Dumbledore told me to tell you that he's briefing you in an hour, so be sure to come down to his office."

"I will," promised Anika, folding up a set of silver dress robes over one arm. "Bye, then."

Sirius didn't leave. "Okay."

"Right." She placed the newly-folded robes on the closet shelf, ignoring the fact that he hadn't moved.

"So," said Sirius, a trace of desperation in his voice, "what have you been doing with yourself?"

"Researching," said Anika, reaching for another article of clothing.

"Researching _what_?" pressed Sirius, seating himself on her bed.

"Curses," said Anika ominously. "I'm getting very good at them."

"I see," said Sirius, edging out of her reach. "Well, I'll be leaving you alone, then."

"You do that," said Anika, staggering across the room under the weight of a stack of data transcriptions.

He eased out of the room and down the stairs, wondering what Remus would do when he found out who their new ally was.

*

Anika bounded down the marble staircases, positively whistling. She _loved_ this place, the smell of ink and strange potion ingredients, the delicious squeak of the clean stone under her feet, the sounds of Peeves bouncing about upstairs and throwing things. Oh, it was so wonderful, so thrilling and beautiful and lucky to be--

She slammed into someone, said "_Oof!_" and nearly twisted an ankle as she slipped down the stairs.

"Can't you watch it?" asked a voice irritably.

"Sorry," Anika said, embarrassed. She looked up, and found herself staring at a sallow, dark-haired boy her own age, who was glaring at her, obviously rather embarrassed himself. She almost choked. "_Snape_?"

"Donelan?" Snape stared at her, the embarrassed look wiping itself from his face and being replaced with his usual contemptuous sneer. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I," said Anika with dignity, "was invited. I can't _imagine_ what you're doing here."

"None of your business," snapped Snape, pushing past her.

"I don't care anyway!" she yelled after him. _Stupid git, trying to get me to feel inferior to him. How I hate him._

Her good mood spoiled, she trudged the rest of the way down the stairs towards Dumbledore's office.

The tall, blue-robed figure standing by the wall straightened at her approach, long white hair swinging out behind him as he smiled at her. "Hello, Anika! May I simply say, you look far too lovely for a research scientist. One would expect you to have as many wrinkles as I do, horn-rimmed glasses, and a perpetual smirk..."

"Too kind, Headmaster..." Anika smiled, bobbing a curtsey.

Dumbledore waved her address aside. "Pish! I won't have you calling me headmaster; you're not a first-year. You may call me Albus, and I shall call you Anika. Far simpler that way. Come along, then...we usually meet downstairs..."

_Not more basements! _Anika groaned inwardly, following the headmaster down the hall.

After a few metres, they reached a large tapestry hanging on the wall. Anika had seen it before: it was of an beautiful, aristocratic-looking young woman herding a flock of rather cross-looking ducks. Now, however, the woman was sitting on a rock at the edge of the tapestry, eating a box of what looked suspiciously like toffee. The ducks milled about her feet, quacking stupidly at random blades of grass.

"Eliza!" said Dumbledore smartly, tapping the weaving with one hand. 

The woman looked up, blinking owlishly at them. "Paffob?" 

Dumbledore's brow furrowed. "Sorry?"

"Asheb, paffob! Yucam gebbim wivouba paffob."

"Eliza," said Dumbledore severely, "you know you shouldn't be eating all that sticky stuff, at your age. It does horrible things to the teeth."

The girl stuck a pale finger into her mouth, rooting around to erase all trace of the toffee, then grinned stickily at both of them, tilted her delicate head, and said shrilly, "'Ow about a password, then, 'ey? Not that I don' trust yer or nuffink, but yerd better 'ave a password or I'll call Dumbledore, I will, ey? _Aaaaow! _D'yer mind not tuggin' on me bloody threads?!" This last was directed at Anika, who had been poking curiously at the tapestry, but quickly withdrew her hand.

"Eliza, dear, I _am_ Dumbledore," said Dumbledore with infinite patience. "And the password is 'Hinkypunk.'"

"Cor! _You're_ Dumbledore hisself? I don't bloomin' Adam and Eve it!" The girl peered closer at him. "Gorblimey, so you are; it's these blasted fibers, I cain't see nuffink. All right, in yer get, then. And mind you don't hit your head!" She cackled gleefully as the tapestry rolled itself up, revealing four lines sketched into the stone wall in the outline of a door. Dumbledore pushed it; a blue mist formed for a moment around his fingers, tracing the outline of his hand, and then it faded and the door swung open.

Anika's first impression was of a painting. Everything was just so perfectly arranged--the round wooden table in the centre of the room, the black-and-white tiles geometrically arranged around the floor, the tall pillars supporting the ceiling, the portraits of the four Founders that hung round the walls. It appeared to be empty; it was very dark, except for the flickering torches in brackets around the walls.

"Come now, Anika!" Dumbledore was already walking briskly down through the room, towards the table. Anika followed, apprehensive.

Dumbledore courteously pulled out a chair for her, bowing elaborately, and then took a seat across the table, laying his wand out on the table in front of him. Anika quickly mimicked him; her wand nearly rolled off the side of the table and she had to snatch at it, feeling stupid and incompetent. Dumbledore placed the tips of his fingers together, elbows resting comfortably on the desk.

"Anika, welcome to the Circle."

Something tingled down Anika's spine at the words.

"We are an alliance pledged to the defeat of Voldemort, pledged to keep him from accomplishing his hideous goal. We know things that no one else knows about his plans, about his movements, his servants, his ultimate intents. And that is why we _must stop him_."

Dumbledore rose to his feet, pointed his wand at the center of the table, and muttered something. There was a brief flash of light, and then something sprang into view, hovering in midair and revolving slowly. It was a flickering image of two flat stones--an illusion, Anika reminded herself, albeit a very skillful one. He began to pace slowly back and forth, his robes swirling about his feet.

"These are called the Scyldinga Runes, Anika. Have you heard of them?"

She nodded, vaguely remembering something Professor Kenaz had mentioned during Ancient Runes. "Prophecies, weren't they? I thought they were destroyed..."

"They were," said Dumbledore grimly. "The Circle destroyed them. Our illusions are the only remaining records. Voldemort would do anything to get his hands on these."

"Why?" asked Anika, bewildered.

"Because they will tell him how to gain infinite power--not only over this world, but over every world that exists." In the light that flickered from the walls, Dumbledore looked very old, and very tired. Anika had to look away, almost feeling as though she were intruding on something private. "Voldemort's true nature is far from human. His mother was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin, as you may have guessed. His immense power as a young boy made him an excellent vessel for powers far older than mankind...a subject I imagine you know much about, with your mother."

"I only know--Irish--prehistory, sir."

"Well, Ireland is really where it all began, isn't it? You know, then, that the balance of the worlds is governed by four powers--fire, air, earth and water?"

Anika nodded, relieved to finally feel that she knew what she was doing. "Yessir" Her mother had told her long ago of the four oldest de Danaan cities--Gorias, of fire, in the east; Finias, of air, in the south; Murias, of water, in the west; and Falias, of earth, in the north.

"So, then. Voldemort--once known as Tom Riddle--was a very ambitious, and very talented, man. He hated muggles with a passion--his father, a muggle, was perhaps a less-than-admirable specimen of humanity--and so he did something very foolish: he performed an ancient ritual at the old site of Gorias, opening his body to one of the four cardinal spirits. Fire, in fact. Fickle, but very, very powerful. Precisely what Riddle wanted."

Anika knew enough about the elementals to feel her skin turn to ice at the story. So that was why Voldemort was so powerful--he was only human in body, only human in the faintest remnants of his soul, if indeed he had any soul left. 

"Once he did this, he had to take on not only his own ambitions, but those of the Elemental as well. And as all fire strives for things to feed on, so too does Voldemort. If he could, he would open every worldgate that exists on Earth, letting in all the chaos and horror of the other dimensions, controlling them all. 

"But he cannot. There are three other Elemental vessels, scattered over the world, and while they live Voldemort cannot possibly open these gates--the spell to open them requires the sacrificial blood of the other Vessels, and the key to finding those vessels lies in these runes--prophecies, giving their identities, and the ways to find and destroy them. Do you remember--I suppose you would have been thirteen or fourteen--there was a case of a suicide cult who murdered twenty Irish children?"

Anika nodded. She remembered it with a horrible chill; one of the young girls found vivisected on the stones at Dun Dubh had been an old babysitting client.

"That cult was called the Death Eaters, and they were followers of Voldemort before his great rise. Each of those children had great potential in one of the four elements, and Voldemort figured that slaying enough of them would equal slaying one real elemental. He only managed to open one gate, though, and the power it took killed all the cultists in an instant." Anika shuddered, but Dumbledore continued. "You surely understand now. That is why we must decipher the symbols before Voldemort does, so that we can awaken that power in the Vessels before they are sacrificed on the stones at Falias, opening the world to the ultimate destruction..." There was a moment of very loud silence. Anika's head spun; it was too much. Spiders were simpler.

"So--the Circle's just trying to delay Voldemort long enough so that we can translate these runes? Not defeat him--not until we've got the Vessels--just delay him?" _Please let me be right. Please don't let him think I'm an absolute idiot, please..._

Dumbledore nodded, pleased. "There, you see? I give you fifteen minutes' worth of 'briefing', and you spit it back at me in two sentences. You'll fit in perfectly here."

"Sir--" Anika smoothed back her hair. Something still niggled the back of her mind. "Do we know _any_ of the other vessels?"

"We do know one," said Dumbledore gravely, stroking his beard. "Voldemort, unfortunately, knows about him too."

"Who--who is it?"

"Why," said Dumbledore, and the illusion floating over the table vanished, replacing itself with a floating silver tea-tray and a plate of biscuits, "why, it's me."

Anika almost fell out of her chair.

The headmaster smiled. "Cup of tea?"

*

"I should have _guessed_ it!" said Anika furiously. Sirius watched her, amused. "I mean, it was so absolutely _obvious_, it was staring me right in the face, and I had to go asking stupid questions. Dumbledore probably thinks I'm an absolute idiot."

"Of course he doesn't, Ani, none of us guessed it first try..."

"And that's another thing! Who is 'us?' I only know you and Dumbledore...don't you ever have big evil-fighting meetings, so you can get to know all your fellow world-savers?"

Sirius shrugged. "Did he give you a parchment?"

"Yeah...yeah, he did, but it was blank. He said to ask you about it."

"It's codenames. The Circle members only know one another by codenames. On the rare occasions that we meet face to face, we wear masks. It makes it easier that way...we can't possibly betray each other..."

"I could betray you," said Anika, with some grim, twisted satisfaction.

"I don't think you would," said Sirius, half-smiling. "Let me see that parchment. You'll get a list of every codename...hang on, I'll show you something cool..."

Anika produced it from her sleeve. "Now what?"

"Tap it," said Sirius, leaning back in his chair, "and say, _'Sodalitas!'_"

"Sodalitas!" cried Anika, tapping the parchment with her wand. It ran black for a moment, and then the black formed spidery lines and sketched across the paper.

  
  


_Coriolanus_

_Ophelia_

_Mercutio_

_Iago_

_Benvolio_

_Romeo_

_Juliet_

_Hecate_

_Prospero_

  
  


"Who are those?" asked Anika, surprised and admiring. 

"It's every Circle member that you know by real name as well as codename," said Sirius, rather smugly. "Personalized. Isn't that impressive? James and I designed it."

"James?" asked Anika, surprised. "He's--"

"He's here too," confirmed Sirius, frowning slightly. "I guess you must know nine of the members by name...Nominatim!"

More spidery lines danced over the parchment:

  
  


_Coriolanus--Severus Snape_

_Ophelia--Anika Donelan_

_Mercutio--Sirius Black_

_Iago--Peter Pettigrew_

_Benvolio--Remus Lupin_

_Romeo--James Potter_

_Juliet--Lily Whitby_

_Hecate--Minerva McGonagall_

_Prospero--Dumbledore_

  
  


"Better memorize them quickly," advised Sirius, "because the parchment self-destructs in forty seconds."

"R-Remus is here?" stammered Anika through abruptly frozen lips.****_And Snape, _she thought frantically, _Snape..._

"Memorize!" scolded Sirius.

Anika had already memorized; she was now trying to swim through the haze that had enveloped her mind. She hadn't spoken to Remus in two--three?--years, and now he was here...now she'd be working with him...

"Lovely codenames, aren't they?" said Sirius with some amusement. "I get stabbed, you go mad and drown, Peter backstabs his superior, James poisons himself...at least Snape gets chased out of Rome by the unwashed masses and later gets stabbed by his closest ally. That ought to be fun." He peered closer at the sheet. "It's fine for Dumbledore; he gets to be from a _comedy_."

Without any warning, the parchment burst into cold blue flames and, in less than a second, was nothing but a pile of glowing ash.

"I don't want to see Remus," said Anika gloomily, staring at it. "I don't know what he's going to say to me."

"He probably won't say anything," said Sirius, wondering how best to break it to her, "because he..er....he might not..."

"Tell me he's got a girlfriend," said Anika quickly, rounding on him.

"He's got a girlfriend," said Sirius, relieved. "Did I say it right?"

"Oh," said Anika, half-thrilled and half despondent. "Should--should I go visit him?"

"I don't know," said Sirius frankly. 

"I think I should." She wiped her forehead with one sleeve, staring out the window at the peaceful summer grounds, thick with cricket-song and the smell of fresh-cut grass. "Where could I find him?"

"He's probably down the east wing--he's got his own office here, like you."

"Where do you live?"

Sirius shrugged. "I've an apartment up Hogsmeade way, like Lily and James."

"Are they rooming together then?" asked Anika with keen interest.

"Yup. They'll be engaged any moment now, you mark my words. Remus, Peter and I've got a bet on--I say it'll happen in August, Peter says not till November and Remus says December."

"My money for October. I'm glad they're together." Pause. "Well." She got up, finger-combing her thick black hair. "I--I should go."

"Hey." He stopped her, grabbing her elbow and forcing her to turn around. "Where are you having dinner tonight?"

"I don't know--thought I'd run down to the kitchen and pick up some salad makings." She forced herself to appear absolutely unconcerned.

"Well, if you want to you could go with Lil and James and me down to the Newt's Eye. We're meeting around seven, if you're interested..."

"I'll see if I've got time," said Anika, trying to slow down her heart.

"All right. See you round, then."

"R-right."

_See Remus_, she reminded herself, watching Sirius jog out the door and down the stairs. _I think it's about time you got some closure in at least one of these weird-ass "relationships."_

*

Remus tore off his reading glasses and tossed them aside with a quiet oath. The tiny, angular characters swam before his eyes, blurring into thousands of sneering grassblades that crisscrossed into self-satisfied smirks. 

_Runes don't smirk, _he thought irritably. _Get a hold of yourself._

He smeared at his eyes with one thin hand, exhaling wearily. It was only maybe four or five o'clock--he almost imagined he could hear birds, chirping cheerily outside the walls. _Of course you can't hear birds_, he told himself firmly. _There are three feet of stone between you and anything that chirps._

He regarded his parchment of notes with nothing short of disgust. Trying to translate two entire tablets of incomprehensible runes when your only clue to what they mean is four lines in ancient Greek is far from easy or rewarding.

"_Gah_," said Remus, and he meant it.

A shadow fell across the glass pane at the door of his office. Someone knocked.

"'Min,"he muttered, pushing the rune sheets aside.

"Remus?" came a low, familiar voice, trembling.

He looked up, and what should have been a tender reunion moment was somewhat ruined by the fact that he hadn't got his glasses on. A tall, black-haired blur wobbled in front of him. "It's been a long time..." it said, making vague, nebulous motions with one appendage.

"Er," he said, scrabbling for his glasses. "Er--do I--_oh._"

"Oh, indeed," said Anika, trying to smile at him. "Hello, Benvolio."

"_Ophelia_?" he whispered, shocked. Anika, Anika Donelan, Anika Donelan that had haunted his memories and his dreams for three years...she was the mysterious Ophelia, the researcher Dumbledore had told them about?

"I suppose so," she said awkwardly, pulling at one sleeve with her hand. "Yes. Yes, that's me."

She didn't look the way he remembered. At night, he sometimes dreamed that he was at her funeral, and everyone circled round the coffin, burning him with their eyes..._you killed her_..._you did this_...

In the dreams, she was so perfect. In his memories, her hair was smooth and silky, her lips full and smooth, her skin flawlessly white, her eyes as deep and swirling as a midsummer storm. Looking at her now, he realized with clinical detachment that her hair actually fuzzed and snapped around her face in the humidity, that she was covered in freckles, that her mouth was rather too wide for beauty and her face too pointed for perfect femininity. It was rather a shock. She was also sweating slightly, something that she had never done in his dreams. 

Well, perhaps she had in _some _of them.

"I--I've missed you." Remus wanted to say something meaningful, something important and great, but the words refused to come.

"Yeah," she whispered, unable to look at him. "Yeah, I've missed you too."

They watched each other, she twisting her robe anxiously between long thin hands, his throat clogged by the awkward thickness-of-air that occurs between ex-lovers in close proximity.

"You didn't used to wear glasses," she said softly.

"I haven't had a chance to get my eyes fixed," he replied, feeling like an bumbling teenager, feeling like he was dreaming. "You know, ocular magic..bit sketchy...you can't be too careful...I...er...yes."

"Yes," she echoed, staring at the floor. "Well."

"Well."

There was silence for some time.

"Are you happy?" she asked suddenly, looking up.

"I don't know." He was so taken aback by the question that he told the truth without thinking. 

"I was hoping you were happy," she said softly. "I guess it's a bit much to ask."

He snorted. "Well, yes, mostly I've been honing my Brooding Skills. But when I get time between spells of heartache, I've been working. It keeps me busy."

"It shouldn't have to," said Anika sadly, taking in the scattered papers, the ink-stained desk, so much like her own back at the observatory. "But I just wanted to say hello. I...I'll go." She turned to the door, her small frame silhouetted against the torchlight in the corridor, and then turned back. "Hey--if you want to talk--I've got an office upstairs. I hear you've got a girlfriend..." The ghost of a smile crossed her face.

"You couldn't expect me to beat myself up over you forever, could you?" he retorted, a tiny smile tinging his own lips. "Well, actually, I _suppose_ you could."

"Silly way to behave," said Anika firmly. "I'm sure she's lovely."

He shrugged. 

Her smile grew, just the slightest bit. "Good to see you, Moony."

"Yeah." And he realized what was different about her--those eyes didn't make his breath catch anymore, the grace of her movements didn't clog his throat the way it had at sixteen. Maybe they could be...friends.

Friends.

She closed the door softly behind her, and he looked back down at his papers, unable to stop smiling to himself. 


	8. The Sleeper Awakened

grittings! rave is here with a slightly shorter part. voldemort appears to have vanished, but...er...oh well. warning: this contains mushy stuff, angst, and kissing. you've been warned.

a special paradise awaits those who read and review...full of golden gingerbread and chocolate cookies and wild parties every night. sherry's definitely going there, as are kali ma and Hyphen and Rowena Alana and Soz and Firecross and WolfieTwin1 and Blaise and Sassy and anyone else who reviewed the earlier parts. i'm a very insecure person; help me out here. make me feel loved. ;P

this is dedicated to the lovely and talented Cassandra Claire, my beta reader and, of course, a fantastic author. if you haven't read Draco Dormiens or Draco Sinister yet, you must have been living in a cave. On Mars. For the past year. Go read it now, you silly twits. and yes, she too is going to my special gingerbread heaven.

oh yes, and the title belongs to Frank Herbert, who once said "Without change, something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken."

* * *

Bryter Layter--Part VI

The Sleeper Awakened

* * *

"...And I discovered Mr. Potter there, and Mr. Snape, robes torn, with him...It is my belief that Potter forced his fellow student into this fight, hoping to lure him into trouble...he has been caught doing things of this nature before.."

For once in his life, Severus Snape didn't look--or feel--smug. He was staring out the window of Dumbledore's office, his thoughts in turmoil, unable to look across the room at James Potter, who had gone white under his deep tan at Rookwood's accusations.

Dumbledore turned to James, the lines in his face worn and severe. "Is this true, James?"

"No, sir," James managed.

"But you were out of bed..."

James took a deep breath, trying to steady his still-jangling nerves. "Yes, Professor."

"Severus?"

The darker boy roused himself, still unable to think straight. "Sir?"

"Can you explain this?" Dumbledore watched him, his blue eyes not straying from Snape's black ones. "Why were the two of you out of bed? You must understand...the consequences for Mr. Potter's actions could be severe..."

_Lie,_ Snape told himself furiously. _'Severe penalties.' Get that stupid git expelled once and for all, him and his stupid friends too if they want to follow him..._But he couldn't make himself. He opened his mouth; only a squeak came out. "I..."

The room was silent. _Just say he provoked you! Say he threatened you, say he insulted Gretchen, say anything..._

"He--he was saving my life, sir." _Oh, God!_ He regretted the words the instant they exited his mouth. _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he berated himself furiously, taking in Rookwood's aghast gasp and Dumbledore's sharp intake of breath. _I can still get Black_, he thought with some grim satisfaction. "I...I was curious about what happened to Loop--er, Lupin, sir...Sirius Black told me how to get in, so I took his advice. Potter must have realized what the consequences would be...he came after me." 

"Why, Mr. Snape," asked Dumbledore gently, "were you so curious about Mr. Lupin's state of health?"

"I...I just wanted to know, sir. He's--sir, you know he's a _werewolf_? I can't believe you'd accept that kind of--"

"He was trying to get Remus expelled!" James burst out, unable to bite his lip at this.

"Whom I accept at this school is my concern, Mr. Snape, not yours," said Dumbledore firmly, turning to James. "And Mr. Potter, please refrain from--"

He never got any further. A furious pounding was heard on the door to the office--that of a frustrated someone attempting to figure out the password. 

"Open," said Dumbledore carefully, turning towards the portal. A creak was heard; a moment later, pounding up the staircase, Sirius came into view, clutching at a stitch in his chest and breathing hard. He skidded to a halt in front of Dumbledore's desk, gasping out, "I...told Snape how to get out...James didn't know anything about it...Nor Remus...just me...Because of what he said...about Ani..."

Dumbledore had heard that before. Somehow, Sirius always took the blame for everything; he didn't seem to mind too much, as it meant he also got most of the credit for it. He was always the first to sacrifice his own innocence for the sake of a guilty friend, cheerfully and even without thought. Now, though, he seemed almost desperate, his usually-laughing face as far from cheer as the Headmaster had ever seen it. Dumbledore was quite inclined to believe him.

"Mr. Black, please sit down for a moment." Sirius collapsed into a chair, his breath burning in his throat. "I find myself believing you, but your confession does not excuse your actions."

"He could have killed Severus!" yelped Professor Rookwood, his rod-thin body trembling in rage.

"_He could have kiwwed Sevewus,_" Sirius mimicked under his breath. "_Poor ickle Sevvie_."

"Yes, Augustus, but you must admit Severus was not entirely blameless himself..." Dumbledore turned piercing blue eyes on his students, making all three of them shrink back slightly in their armchairs. "Mr. Black, you deliberately endangered another student's life. That is no small crime. Such an action could result in suspension, or even expulsion, from Hogwarts." James was on his feet in an instant, while Sirius went very, very white and Snape squirmed happily in his chair. "However, I must admit it seems that your motivation was not entirely meaningless. I will _not_ expel you, but I will be observing your actions _very _closely from now on." His eyes twinkled for a moment. "Your urge to defend your friends is almost...admirable, though the circumstances seem to suggest that if I say anything complimentary about you, Augustus here will strangle me with his bare hands." Rookwood was, indeed, looking positively murderous. "Thirty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Black, and detention for one week." He turned to Snape now, lined face enigmatic. "Mr. Snape, you tried to get a fellow student expelled--not as serious an offense as Mr. Black's, but certainly nothing to be proud of. In addition, you _were_ out of bed past curfew, which merits a point deduction of its own. Detention for three days, and twenty points from Slytherin."

And now he turned to James. A faint smile lit his features, surprising his student with its quirkiness. "As for you, Mr. Potter, you too were out of bed past curfew time...but your actions showed an amazing amount of courage. Risking a life for a friend is one thing...for an enemy, quite another. Only one in a thousand has that fortitude."

_Damnit!_ cursed Snape furiously, knowing what was coming. _Why didn't I lie to them?_

"Forty-five points to Gryffindor--" Rookwood made a strangled sort of noise "--but I'm afraid I'm forced to also punish you for not being in bed. Five days of detention. And I'm going to have to ask _all _of you--" his gaze rested particularly on Snape "--not to mention what happened last night. Mr. Lupin's condition is a secret, and I intend for it to remain so. If I hear that any part of this rumor has leaked out, I will have to take _extremely_ drastic action."

_I hate them_, thought Snape furiously, raging and humiliated. _I hate them all. Potter, Black, Lupin, Whitby, Donelan, Pettigrew, all of them. I'll make them pay. God, I'll get them back!_

But when he looked at James, something twinged in his guts.

*

Moony Blues whapped her feline head into the door, trying to get out. She was not, perhaps, the smartest specimen of cat; though pretty, she had an alarming tendency towards banging into things and eating everything. Anika had already had to put a Repellius Hex on every piece of furniture in the dormitory, to prevent Moony from gnawing on them. 

Right now, though, even Moony's actions couldn't cheer her up. Rather, they sent her deeper into depression, thinking about the other Moony, wondering where he was.

_It's been a week_, she thought miserably. _The moon _must_ have waned by now. Isn't he going to come back?_

Just for a change of scene, she opened the door and stepped outside. Moony, who had been building up momentum for a particularly ferocious attack on it, skidded out into the hallways and tumbled down the stairs, landing with a faint squeak on the landing, her green eyes dazed and slightly crossed.

"Hey, Ani," Erin called, waving to her from across the common room. Anika waved back, rather halfheartedly. "Your boyfriend's waiting for you outside--he must be back..."

"Oooh, he came to see you first thing," sighed a third-year, romantically.

"Oh," Anika said, her heart fairly beating out of her chest. "So he's out in the corridor, is he?"

"Yeah," Erin confirmed, and went back to filing her nails.

Anika almost flew out the statue passage, dashing into the hallway as fast as she could. Remus stood there, the bones of his face pronounced and haggard, the dark circles under his eyes deeper than they had ever seemed before. Somehow, to her, he looked more handsome than he ever had.

She wrapped herself around him, trying not to sob as his strong hands came up behind her back and she felt his ragged breathing in her ear, and she was whispering over and over "I love you, I love you..."

He pulled himself free of her, still grasping her wrists, took a deep, shuddering breath and, in tones that sounded as though they were being dragged out of him with grappling hooks, said: "Ani, I don't think we should...should see each other anymore."

Anika froze, stunned. She felt as though she had been kicked in the throat. "Wh-what? Is this about--your--because you know I go through a similar thing once a month, and I'm almost as unpleasant--" She forced a laugh, but he would have none of it.

Remus closed his eyes, and she could hear the harsh pain in his voice as he went on. "I never want anything to happen like--like what happened the other night. I couldn't stand _ever_ thinking I could be capable of hurting you like that. You could never totally trust me again--"

Her heart seemed to have suddenly stopped working. "Of course I trust you, Remus, you're still _you_, you haven't changed--"

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered. "I never wanted to hurt you."

She impulsively put one hand up to his cold cheek, forcing him to look her in the eye. "Please...please..."

He looked away. "I'm sorry, Ani--Oh god, I'm sorry..." and then he fled down the corridor, leaving her staring after him, a strange buzzing in her ears and a leaden feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Slowly, her hand dropped to her side.

*

"Moony, what's wrong?" asked James gently, nudging his friend in the side with his elbow and noticing, not for the first time, the excessive whispering and hate-filled glares of the Ravenclaw girls on the other side of the dining room. "Come on, tell us."

"Yeah, Moony, buck up," Sirius said comfortingly, putting an arm around Remus's shoulders. "Can't be that bad. Think about everything good around here--Snape got the scare of his life, I didn't get expelled--"

"That's not so great," muttered James.

"--James earned us points out the arse, and Ani's still absolutely mad over you--"

Without warning, Remus got up, shrugging away the comforting hands, and left. 

Sirius watched, open-mouthed.

James pointed in the direction of the Ravenclaw girls, who were now watching Remus race for the door as though he were some particularly nasty sort of bug. "Ani's not sitting there," he whispered to Sirius. "You don't suppose they--"

Sirius sighed and got to his feet. "I'll go talk to him." _This has been a really rotten week._

He found Remus back in the Gryffindor common room, his head in his hands. "'Lo, Sirius."

"What happened between you and Ani?" asked Sirius, as kindly as he could.

Remus looked up, flashing him a wan smile. "Trust you to get right to the point, Padfoot..."

Sirius crossed his arms.

"I told her I thought we shouldn't see each other any more," recited Remus in a dull voice. "I told her I didn't want her to get hurt..."

"But she's in love with you! Don't you _understand_ that?"

Remus stared at him, his amber eyes tortured. "Of course I do. I mean, think I do...I don't want her to die for me--because of me. I love her more than I've ever loved anyone before, and I don't know how to deal with it...but I had to. I had to let her go. I didn't want to hurt her..." he repeated, trying to screw up his face against the howling tempest of rage and anguish that was threatening to overwhelm him from the inside.

"You're being dense," said Sirius shortly. "She doesn't care about your stupid lycanthropy any more than I do. She's smart enough not to let herself get hurt. If you throw her away now, you're losing the best thing you've ever had. You know that perfectly well."

"_You_ don't know what you're talking about," said Remus wearily. "What if I keep this up? What if I keep trying until we leave school? What if I try to--you know, some analysts and researchers say that any kind of prolonged contact can pass on the disease. What if we get so attached that she thinks she can get through to me even when I'm a wolf? If we reach that level of trust--"

"She's not _stupid_," said Sirius patiently.

"Stupid has nothing to do with it," Remus said, staring at the floor. "Whenever I get attached to people, they get hurt."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Sirius said bluntly, a part of him wondering _Why are you trying to help him get her back? Can't you tell what she means to you?_ He squashed it, firmly. "I'm not hurt. Prongs isn't hurt. Wormtail isn't hurt. Go back to her, you witless prat...tell her you didn't mean what you said..."

"Sirius, I did mean it." Remus stood up slowly, picking up his books. "I'm not going to take the risk of hurting her just because of my own selfishness." He pushed past his friend, clambered out the still-open portrait hole, and was gone.

*

He didn't have the chance to speak to Ani until that night--she didn't come to Arithmancy, lunch, or dinner, and whenever he tried to sneak down the corridors to the Ravenclaw tower, Professor Rookwood always seemed to be there. Sirius had the unpleasant feeling that the man was spying on him. After dinner, though, he convinced James to lend him the invisibility cloak, pulled it on, and hurried silently towards her common room.

The eagle statue glared impassively at him. What had the password been? "_Asphodel_," he muttered, and the thing creaked open. He snuck inside.

Though the room was full of people, no one seemed to have noticed his entrance; they were all too deeply involved in conversations of their own. Catching the word "Ani", he quickly crept over to a group of girls sitting by the fire.

"--Didn't even come to Quidditch practice, Erin. I'm worried about her."

"She's not up in the dorm?"

"No...I checked there. She's gone off somewhere to cry, probably...not that I blame her..."

"I just can't even _imagine_. Remus Lupin! Dumping her like a bad habit. He always seemed so _sweet_."

"And they were _such_ a cute couple. So devoted to each other. It was like they were _married_."

"I always thought she and Sirius Black would end up together, actually..."

Sirius moved quickly away, not really wanting to know where this conversation was going. Of course, girls would pair up their friends with almost _anyone_ in their imaginations, but still...So Ani wasn't up in the dorms at all. Where would she go...if she wanted to be alone...

It struck him like a lightning bolt. He'd told her about where Remus went, when he had to transform...what better place, Ani would think, to hide?

He crept out the exit again. This time, several people noticed the hole opening and closing for no apparent reason, but chalked it up to a ghost and went back to their own business.

The grounds were absolutely still. There was no wind, and even the Whomping Willow was absolutely unmoving. _Well, of course it is, idiot_, he thought impatiently. _She's been in there since this morning._

Snatching up a stick from the ground, he moved cautiously towards the still-dormant tree--just before it began to whip around, trying to get at him, he poked the knot and it went back to sleep. He sighed in relief. _I needn't have worried...if Snape could get in, there's no reason I shouldn't be able..._

Hurriedly, he jumped between the roots and into the tunnel towards Hogsmeade.

  
  


The door to the Shrieking Shack hung loosely on its hinges. Yanking off the invisibility cloak, Sirius pushed it gently open, where it swung, creaking, for a moment. Crossed the scarred, pocked floor, and tiptoed up the stairs into the bedroom.

On the ravaged four-poster in the corner of the room, there lay a tiny lump of miserable robes and black hair, back to him.

"Go away," said the lump forlornly, in a muffled sort of way.

"I won't," Sirius said stubbornly. "Not until you talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about." Sniff. "Please go away."

"Ani, it wasn't about you."

"Oh, wasn't it?" she said bitterly, rolling over to face him. Her eyes were dry, but every line of her face was heartbroken. "I told him I didn't care that he was a werewolf, I told him it didn't matter...he didn't listen. Oh, _God_," and she buried her face in the mattress, trying desperately not to cry. "I failed him, Sirius...I ran away when he needed me..."

He sat down beside her, a gentle, comforting weight on the bed. "Of course you didn't fail him, Ani. None of this was your fault. It's just...you mean more to him than anything in the world, and he's so afraid of hurting you that he can't be close to you." He pulled her upright, leaning her against him. Now she really was crying... "Shh," he said softly, moving her disheveled hair out of her face. "It's going to be all right, somehow. I don't know how, but it's going to be all right...God, you mean the world to him, Ani, you know that. Even if you can't be...that way...you can always be friends..."

"I don't _want _to be friends!" she wailed in misery, hiding her face in his shoulder. "I want to be _loved._"

"You are," Sirius whispered, and something in him that wanted, more than anything, to protect her, moved--he reached out for her, his arms going around her. And then, before he knew what was happening, he was kissing her.

He'd never been kissed that way, and he'd been kissed often enough to know the difference. Anika smelled, tasted, like the wind off the sea, salty and wild and beautiful--her lips were wet and smooth with tears, hard and demanding and yet soft, yielding...he wanted nothing more than this, this sweet electrifying bite that swept through him with every touch. "Ani," he whispered softly against her mouth, his arms tightening around her.

She entwined her long fingers in his smooth hair, bringing him closer still, melting against him, feeling her sorrow and pain wash through her in a blazing, intoxicating wave, forgetting who she was and what she was, remembering only _him..._

*

The warm, soft weight of her in his arms brought him back to reality, to the cold, hard bed and the dark, boarded-in room. She pressed herself against him, and he held her closer, pushing a soft, fat tendril of hair out of her face, pushing down the beginnings of the feelings that threatened him...willing himself to think only of her.

Sirius found himself quite unable to understand his own feelings. It had something to do with his proximity to Ani--there was something about her that he couldn't quite hold on to, something strong and luminous and indescribably _good_, something he could spend a lifetime adoring and never quite define. She glowed, it seemed, with an inner light that took his breath away every time he saw her, something that had nothing to do with physical beauty...

"I didn't mean to do that," she said, after a time of this wonderful silence. The tears were beginning to prickle at the backs of her eyes again. "I made things harder, didn't I?"

"You?" He laughed, though he had never felt less like laughing in his entire life. "You didn't do anything except be who you are." _You betrayed your friend,_ screamed the voices in the back of his mind. _You hurt him more than anyone else ever could--making out with the girl he loves in a sordid shack, while he mourns her up in his dormitory!--and he doesn't even know._

_ I did what I had to...what I felt was right. God, how can things that feel so perfect be so...wrong? _

She looked up at him through a curtain of dark lashes, her eyes haunted. "I never wanted things to be complicated. I just wanted to be happy...that's all anyone wants, isn't it? And I thought I was happy. No, I didn't just think it--I really _was_ happy. I had friends...and I had Remus...and now I've messed everything up. Oh," and her voice was misery again, "why can't things just be _simple_?"

"I don't know," he said honestly, kissing the top of her head.

"Of course you don't. Sirius, I don't know what to do..." She pulled away from him, straightening her rumpled robes. "Maybe it's best if we just spent some time apart. Not just you--Remus, James, Peter, Lily." She sniffed, wiped her nose with her sleeve like a child and attempted a watery smile. "House pride, you know...maybe I'd better acquire some of it." She leaned over him, kissing him wetly on the mouth, and drew back. "Thank you...for everything."

And then she was gone.

*

"Prongs," muttered Sirius under his breath in no uncertain tones, "I have to talk to you."

James didn't ask questions; he knew his friend well enough that he was fairly sure he could understand what this was about. They trooped up into the empty dormitory, Sirius shut the door, and they stared at each other for a minute.

"You shagged her, didn't you," said James. It wasn't a question.

Sirius seemed to have a momentary speech impediment. "How--" he croaked, unable to get any farther. After a moment, he managed "We didn't _literally_, you know. Just kissed." After a very pregnant pause, he added, "A lot."

James nodded curtly. "I suspected you might."

Sirius sank onto his bed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't _mean_ to! Honestly I didn't. I'd _never_ hurt Moony that way, you know I wouldn't. It just sort of happened...she was so unhappy, I couldn't even look at her...I only wanted to comfort her, and I ended up..." He swallowed hard. "Now she doesn't want to see any of us, probably ever again." He looked up at his best friend. "What should I do?"

James laughed humorlessly. "You're asking _me_ for advice? After the Lily fiasco?"

Sirius waved it aside. "That'll get better if you stop thinking about it so much."

The other boy sighed. "You know, Padfoot, sometimes separation is best. Maybe Ani's right about this...things are too hard for everyone right now, and I don't just mean among _us._ Voldemort's attacks...they're affecting everyone, subtly or not-so-subtly. She might have gotten over her father, but--I don't know. Let her be for a while. She knows we're here if she needs us."

_But what if _I_ need _her_?_


	9. The River

gah! could this POSSIBLY have taken any longer? well, yes, i guess it could. but anyway, it took a long time and i'm sorry, and i can't put a nice happy long acknowledgments/thanks/plugs section in here because my modem is broken and i'd forget someone, and that would be perfectly horrible. 

however, i CAN say thank you very very much to Cassie for beta-reading this; cassie is a wonderful writer, b-reader, and general human being and she deserves tons and tons of praise that i am altogether too stressed and tired to deliver. and...um...go read DS and DD and join the Paradigm of Uncertainty ML! yes! it's a cool place. we have wild mailing-list parties every night, get drunk on power, and dance around with lampshades on our heads singing about tiny chimney sweeps with absolutely enormous brooms.

*yawn* *collapse*

-rave

P.S. all of these troublesome characters belong to the almighty J.K.R. well, actually, anika and jill belong to me (kind of--read the dedication of PoA to see what I mean; i'm taking horrible liberties here...) but jill pisses me off so you can have her, and anika is starting to frighten me a bit so i'm starting to distance myself from her. "summertime" belongs to george "I am a freaking genius" gershwin. the yankees' souls belong to satan "i am the antichrist" the unholy.

P.P.S. review, my little kumquats! please!

* * *

Bryter Layter--Part Eight

The River

* * *

Anika coughed and waved her hand in front of her face, sending a cloud of the all-pervading cigarette smoke blossoming into the room. The Newt's Eye was a hangout for wizards from all walks of life; at the bar, two old men were comparing the sizes of their wands and roaring drunkenly at one another as, right next to them, a young woman with too much eye makeup, in a black, thin-strapped top and about fifty pounds of silver chain around her neck and hips was hungrily kissing a blissful-looking young man with blue hair and prominent fangs. Next to the amorous couple, a middle aged woman squalled irritably at her two toddlers, who were evidently trying to strangle one another with the paper napkin-holders--a difficult feat, certainly, but if anyone could accomplish it, these children could.

She cast a glance around the bar, searching for any sign of the people she'd come to meet. Every booth was full; she felt an idiot, walking by and peering at the diners, but there was no real alternative. 

A familiar, rich peal of laughter cut through the thick smoke. Anika looked up, relieved, and made her way through the crush of people to a booth on the far side, where she could see the nod of a shaggy black head, the sheen of a warm broad back and leather jacket.

"Sirius," she called, feeling decidedly awkward, unable to see who else was in the booth with him; it was a big table, there must have been four or five others...He twisted about in his seat, and his eyes lit up at the sight of her. Bizarrely, she found herself noticing the way his black shirt fell under his breath, in waves like clouds under wind. 

"Ani!" he cried cheerfully, beckoning to her. "Come on, don't be shy..."

She ventured forward into the circle of yellow light cast by the lamp over the booth, shyly draping a fat tendril of hair behind one ear. "Er, hello."

And then all of a sudden someone--she couldn't see who--was hugging her so tightly that her chest felt in danger of implosion and someone else was yelling gleefully over her head. The drink of the person embracing her bumped against her back; evidently the person hadn't even bothered to put it down, and now it was spilling a bit against her new robes. 

"_Okay_," said Anika slightly more sharply. "Owch." And then she felt the brush of hair across her face, and caught a sparkle of copper out the corner of one eye--"Lily?!"

"Ani!" cried Lily breathlessly, yanking her old friend to arm's length and drinking her in with those tilted, thick-lashed emerald eyes. "Ani, you're Ophelia?!"

"Er," said Anika, remembering Remus's reaction--come to think of it, wasn't that Remus? sitting in the corner of the booth with a platinum-haired girl whose name Ani didn't know--"er, well, yes."

"_Oh,_" said Lily expressively, and then, "oh, Ani, I've missed you _so much_--" and she was being hugged again, and over Lily's shoulder Anika could see James standing, a silly little half-smile on his face. She raised her eyebrows sardonically at him in greeting, and was pleased to see him do the same in return.

"You look different," said Lily at length, pulling away for the second time. "Grown into your bones, I see. Lovely."

"You look the same, except you've grown out your hair--looks really nice long." admitted Anika honestly. "I think the pretty ones don't change."

"Bull," said Lily playfully, "I already told you that you look different."

Someone stood, at the end of the table. Anika poked her head around Lily's and saw Remus, waving hesitantly at her. She waved back, feeling immensely stupid. "You don't have to wave, you know, we're only five feet away from each other--"

"I don't feel like yelling," Remus called back. "Too much drunken shouting."

"I like the drunken shouting," said Sirius mildly. "It makes me feel at home."

"That's not a good sign," said Anika, rather worriedly.

"I know," and Sirius shrugged and shook his head slightly, flicking his hair out of his dark, slanted eyes.

The platinum-haired girl stood up, looking at Anika with gentle, inquisitive brown eyes, and shot a sideways glance at Remus.

"Oh, right," said Remus hurriedly. "Ani, this is Jill Prewett...Jill, this is Anika Donelan. We went to school together."

"Hallo," said Jill, smiling and showing a set of perfectly even, straight, white teeth.

"Nice teeth," said Anika without thinking. Lily snickered.

"I'm sorry?" Jill leaned politely across the table, cupping one ear.

"Nice to meet you!" Anika said quickly, sweating slightly and trying to smile.

"You'll be the newest member, then?" asked Jill, folding her short-fingered, tanned little hands and sitting back down.

"Yes," said Anika for what felt like the twelfth time. "Yes, I'm a researcher. Specializing in curses."

"Oh!" Jill's smile became slightly less canned and more friendly. "So we're in the same department, then. I'm a translator, with Remus," and she cast an adoring glance at Remus.

"Aha," said Anika, rapidly running out of things to say. "Er."

Remus settled an arm around Jill's shoulders and smooshed a kiss against her left ear. Jill leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Are they--very close?" whispered Anika to Sirius, scooting into a seat beside him.

Sirius shook his head almost imperceptibly. "No. But she keeps Remus from being too lonely, and he keeps her from being single. It's more a convenience than anything else, and I don't think it'll last."

"She seems nice enough," Anika whispered back.

"Well, that's because she _is_ nice enough--_enough_ being the key word. No better than _enough_." Sirius sounded almost grumpy. "What good is someone who's only enough?" 

"Better than someone who isn't even enough."

Sirius shrugged moodily. "I don't know. I don't like her much, is all. She just likes to be able to say she's dating Remus because she doesn't like to be dating no one at all."

James cleared his throat loudly, thumping the table with his mug of butterbeer. Sirius fell silent. "Um. Lily and I have an announcement to make. We would have liked to make it with Peter around, but he's...er...gone missing somewhere, so. Er. We're...we're going to get married. In October. We've been planning it since January, and we were trying to keep it a secret, but...we...we couldn't, really. So there you are," he added with some asperity.

Sirius burst out into loud, whooping cheers and whipped his wand out of his sleeve, setting off an eruption of red-and-gold fireworks that ricocheted around the bar, knocking several of the tipsier patrons off their stools. Remus's face lit up and he let out a hoot of joy, applauding furiously; Jill looked politely happy and clapped, and Anika simply screamed and jumped up to hug both of them all over again. 

"Oy, there!" yelled the bartender. "That's enough, you!"

"They're getting married!" shouted Sirius, losing his head completely. "They're _finally_ getting married!"

"Good," said the bartender blankly.

"_Good?! _It's a fucking _miracle _is what it is, and I'll thank you not to ruin the moment!"

"There, now, Sirius," muttered Anika, stifling his yelps with one hand. "It's wonderful, but you _could_ stop the fireworks."

"Never!" cried Sirius dramatically, and the falling sparks illuminated his handsome face from the top and winked over his eyes and cheeks. 

Anika grinned, at Lily, at James, at Sirius, Remus, even Jill, and suddenly felt more accepted, more like she _belonged_ than she had in what felt like forever.

*

They emerged into the sultry July night, spilling the light from inside the bar out onto the moon-spangled grass, and gathered in a circle just outside the Newt's Eye. 

"It was wonderful to see you," Anika said shyly, fiddling with her cloak.

"Great to see you too, Ani," said Lily warmly, grasping one of Anika's hands in both of her own. Her skin was so smooth, thought Anika in disbelief; it was almost inhuman. "I'm so glad we'll be working together."

"Goodnight, Ani!" called James, who was already pulling his broomstick out of its rack in front of the door. He climbed onto it; Lily climbed on behind him, and a moment later they kicked off into the air, both waving furiously until they were out of sight. Anika waved back, eyes bright with starlight.

"Ani, how're you getting home?" asked Sirius, who was leaning casually against a tree, listening to the crickets.

"Thought I'd just walk..." She shrugged. It was something of a sting that she couldn't afford a broomstick, but she tried to conceal it: "I like walking. It's good exercise."

"Mind if I go with you part of the way?" he asked, dark eyes shadowed and enigmatic under the moon. 

"Course not." She started down the path, Sirius close behind her. "If you really want to bother."

"I was going this way anyway." There was a brief flare of light from his direction; she cast a glance over at him and then--"Sirius! You're going to get cancer!"

"Tell me something I don't know," said Sirius carelessly and somewhat muffledly, holding the cigarette lightly between his lips and inhaling deeply. He raised a pale hand, pulling the cigarette away, and blew out a long puff of smoke. "At least it cheers me up. And _don't_ you dare start preaching at me."

"You used to smell good," said Anika grumpily. "Now you smell like an ashtray. Congratulations. Feel _better_?"

He glared at her, taking a rebellious drag on the cigarette. "Like I don't get that enough from Moony."

Before he could react, she had snatched it from his hands and ground it under one boot heel, scowling. "Well, maybe he's _right_. He's your friend, he cares about your health, and as a mediwizard I just can't--"

He glowered at her in the moonlight. "You're not even a real mediwizard! You just call yourself 'Professor' so people will take you seriously!"

"That's not true!"

"You just told me it was an hour ago!"

"Well, I--I---I was just trying to be funny--" She went very red, and scowled at him furiously.

"Here I've only seen you for a day, and already you're interfering with one of the few things that actually bring me pleasure in life!"

"Well, maybe it's about time you found someone _human_ to make you happy!" She was almost wishing that it wasn't so dark; she couldn't see his eyes, couldn't tell if he was angry or surprised, and at the same time was incredibly glad he couldn't see her going red. _What a stupid thing to say!_

He gaped at her.

"Are you leaving soon?" she asked rudely. "Off somewhere where you can smoke in peace?"

"Oh, sod off." He kicked at the road, sending a pebble spinning off into the mud, and looked away from her.

"Sorry, " she said suddenly, looking at the dirt road. The wind ruffled her hair. "I should butt out."

"Heh, butt," said Sirius tonelessly. "Cigarette...butt." Pause. "I appreciate the thought, though. Really. It's nice that you don't want me to die." 

They had come to the end of the road; one branch led to Hogwarts, and the other to Sirius's apartment. His motorcycle leaned against the stile, reflecting the moonlight in its perfectly polished tire wells and chrome. He patted it gently. "I guess we split here."

"Yeah." She regarded the motorcycle admiringly. "Yours?"

"Mm-hm." He couldn't keep the pride out of his voice. "Just got her last year. Her name's Rae."

"Ex-girlfriend?" she asked acidly, hands on hips.

Sirius made a sweeping gesture with his hands. "My muse. My angel. My inspiration."

"'Rae' is a hooker name," said Anika bluntly. "Such a hooker name I have not heard since I was five years old and watching 'Bambi.'"

"Hookers can't be muses?" asked Sirius with great dignity. "The poet-hooker relationship is a long-established and respected one. Haven't you ever read any Cummings?"

"Maybe if her name was 'Persephone' or 'Xanthippe' or 'Juliet,' but come on..._Rae?_"

"Like I'm going to name my motorcycle 'Xanthippe,'" said Sirius in disgust. "G'wan home."

"See you, Sirius."

"Pity you will," said Sirius, poking his tongue out at her and straddling the motorcycle comfortably. She waved, and set off down the path towards Hogwarts as he blasted into the skies.

  
  


Anika held the mouse delicately, feeling the terrified beating of its tiny heart against her fingers as she raised the syringe to it. "Hush," she whispered, feeling strangely sympathetic as it kicked and squirmed futilely, "this isn't going to hurt. _Hush_."

She pushed the plunger. The mouse shuddered and went stiff; electric blue liquid--extracts of Dumbledore's blood, plus a few extra ingredients--crept into its veins, slowing the heartbeat, dulling the shining black eyes. She counted the beats against her thumb, and recorded them on the parchment next to her. Then she placed the mouse on the desk, where it crouched low, about to flee, and pointed her wand. "_Imperio!_" 

The creature froze, transfixed.

_Walk forward,_ she thought. _Walk forward._

Nothing happened. The mouse did not move. Its eyes shifted, just slightly flickering. For a moment, a paw started forward--and then was snatched back.

Anika's heart leapt. Could it have worked? She leaned forward, her breath catching in her throat--_Walk! Walk forward!_

The mouse was still--and then, all of a sudden, there was a tiny crack and it collapsed on the desk, the heartbeat stopped.

"Damn!" said Anika aloud. She seized the rodent in one hand, prodded at it--it was quite dead. The effort to fight the Curse must have taken more strength than the tiny animal possessed--she'd given it too much of the serum, perhaps--and she felt an odd sort of guilt for its death.

She placed her hands on its soft belly, the velvet fur of the stomach caressing her fingers.

The soft, sweet note in the back of her mind...the siren call, as pure and seductive as the sea...

_Flash._

Color after color after color, pictures blazing through her mind-- Grey-green-black-white-black-white, like lightning bolts, as though she was watching the life of the mouse through the windows of a fast-moving train. And then--

There was no color. All was in shades of misty, eye-clouding grey. The wind nipped at her hair, tossing it about her face, silent as the moon. In front of her, slow with frozen sleet, the river crawled sluggishly toward the west. She reached her hand into it, feeling the unbelievable cold over her fingertips, creeping up her wrists, spangling her arms, all the way to her shoulder--

Anika ripped her hand out of the water. The mouse lay in her palm, blue and nerveless, but it was beginning to melt into gory icicles, to slough through her fingers like sand...

_Flash_.

For a moment, the place between her fingertips and the mouse's fur glowed blue.

The mouse quivered under her fingers. The heartbeat revived.

Anika gasped and fell back, as the creature, eyes sparkling again, dodged under her desk and scampered through a crack in the wall.

The call sounded in the back of her head again, the low, lilting melody...

_Ani, sweetheart...Ani...._

_ Mother?! But she's...she's...._

She looked down at her hands....they were frosted over, the fingertips white and sparkling with crystal icicles. And her eyelashes...hard and cold against her skin, as though they too were covered in ice....

Anika's knees buckled under her, too weak to hold her up any longer. The carpet prickled against her eyelids, the sharp pain in her head and chest nearly obliterating her vision.

Moony looked up from her spot on the windowsill, her usually vacant eyes glowing, alert and chillingly green.

_Dumbledore..._thought Anika dully. _Dumbledore...I've got to tell...I've got to...._

And then darkness.

  
  


Voldemort's head snapped up, his ruby eyes flashing. He had felt--just for the shortest moment--someone had reached the Greylands. Someone had disturbed the river; he had felt their fingers paddling as if in his own flesh, unnaturally warm and soft. He hissed through his teeth, biting down on his own tongue. Who could have touched Charon's moat without crossing it upon the instant?

The runes could tell him, he knew. And he was so close to them...so close to reaching Benvolio, the scholar who would know all the translations. Wormtail had already told him of Benvolio, told him where his office was, told him everything. Perhaps he would even make a raid tonight...but Benvolio had been awfully elusive in the past, and gods knew he was troublesome. Even if the Death Eaters could get past the wards--and the information Wormtail had given him would provide well enough for that--who knew how well the scholar could defend himself? 

Even so he was less trouble than the other three--Romeo, Juliet and Mercutio. Those three...how many loyal Death Eaters had those three corrupted, seduced, killed? How many Mudbloods had they sheltered? How many times had they held the runes just out of reach, setting traps, making plans...when Wormtail, or Snape, learned their true identities...they would be the first to die. 

But there would be a little time before they died.

A little time.

So much can happen in a little time, thought Voldemort, and he felt the cold breath of the Greylands again. He would send them there, and no mysterious meddling touch would pull them from the currents of the river when he was finished.

The river, he thought, there was a clue there. Peter had told him of a new recruit, a researcher...not a threat, he had thought. Ophelia. The small part of the Dark Lord that was still Tom Riddle remembered a play..._Hamlet_, it had been, and had Ophelia not drowned in a river near the end? Could it be merely coincidence? With Dumbledore, very little was coincidence.

He tapped his wand against his hand, thoughtfully, and stared with unseeing red eyes at the pristine marble wall of his chambers. Ophelia he would have to destroy...she was probably a simple necromancer, perhaps with a slight knowledge of the tricky currents of Charon's Ford, but nothing too unusual. Nonetheless...she could perhaps become an irritation. 

Again he felt the burning touch against his skin, the touch of mortal flesh against the River, and shuddered. There would have to be extra safeguards put up, the gates better guarded. Simple necromancy or not...he would have to be careful until he had the Circle in his hands.

"Evan!"

A single shadow detached itself from its fellows in the corner of the room, gliding into the light. "My Lord."

"Do we have the means to raid Hogwarts tonight?"

"I had thought we would wait until Dumbledore..."

"Not attack, raid. Can those idiots in Espionage get through the wards yet?"

"Not to the inner sanctum, my Lord...perhaps only to the offices...would that be enough?"

"Yes...yes. Wormtail has given me enough information to reach one of their translators--known only as Benvolio. I want him tonight...we've delayed directly attacking a Circle wizard for long enough. Can you manage it?"

Rosier bowed smoothly. "It should not be inordinately taxing, Lord. Especially with Wormtail's help."

"He will help you," whispered Voldemort, smiling slightly. "He will certainly help you."

"It shall be done," said Rosier softly.

"Oh, and Rosier? Make sure someone dies before you leave. I want to leave them a little...calling card." _And maybe catch myself a necromancer, _he thought with faint satisfaction. "Make sure you get out right away after you kill them, though...the Old One can sense the death of any of his Circle." He felt the tiniest tingle of fear at the thought of Dumbledore, the only one who could ever match him, the only other...

"Yes, Lord." And then there was a small pop of imploding air and Rosier was gone.

  
  


Anika opened her eyes very suddenly, and the world blurred for a moment and then came back into focus. Moony was sitting on her head, meowing concernedly into her left ear. 

"Gerrrof," mumbled Anika, trying to remember what had happened. There had been a mouse...she'd been injecting it with Serum A...something had happened. It had died, she recalled blearily. Why did she want to tell Dumbledore that? It wasn't important. It was only a mouse.

She shook herself and pushed up onto her elbows, dumping Moony unceremoniously onto the floor. Her head throbbed mercilessly, red-and-green lights flashing achingly just behind her eye sockets. 

With one cold, shaking hand, she wiped a strand of wet hair out of her eyes, still shivering uncontrollably, as though she'd been dumped into the Hogwarts lake in February. What the hell had happened? She swallowed hard; her throat was sore, thick, the lymph nodes swollen and aching. A cough sent a wave of pain ripping through her lungs and throat, and she climbed blearily to her feet, the room swaying in dizzying swoops around her.

Supporting herself on the bedpost, she peered into the mirror that hung above her bed. The edges of it were fogged, like windows in December...but it was clearing...

The face that stared at Anika through the glass was hardly a face at all. A bare skull, nearly, though flesh dangled in grotesque strips from its contours, and eyes that were still greenish-grey stared, horror-struck, out of the dark sockets. 

Anika screamed.

Lily had been heading down the Charms corridor, intending to surprise James with a lunch she'd packed, when she heard the scream. It was very faint, but certainly audible--coming from the West tower, it sounded like. What was in the West tower?

_Ani's room,_ she realized, a thrill of panic coursing through her veins. 

She dropped the sandwiches on the floor, her somewhat domestically-inclined mind giving a little moan of dismay as she did so, and raced down the corridor towards the staircase. _Damn these Apparation wards,_ she thought furiously, taking the steps two at a time. _Damn it, damn it, damn it._

The door of Anika's room came into view. Lily smashed her palm against it, feeling the odd tingle against her hand as the ward-magic scanned it, making sure she was an authorized Circle member..._Hurry, hurry,_ she thought desperately. The sound of shattering glass echoed from inside the room--let me in let me in _let me in goddamnit--_

The door sprang open and Lily crashed inside, her wand flipped into her hand in a textbook defensive position. 

She cast a quick glance around. At first sight, the room appeared to be empty, undisturbed--but Lily took in the weirdly frosted windowpanes, the pools of water on the otherwise spotless carpet. And then her glance moved upwards, to the wall. The large, silver mirror that hung just above the bed had been smashed, the tiny raindrops of glass sprinkling over the blue sheets of the bed.

"Oh _smelt it,_" the mirror was mumbling in irritable, grandmotherly tones, "what a mess. Seven years bad luck at _minimum_, I should say, I mean I was _just polished_--"

"Shut up," snapped Lily, scanning the apartment. The mirror shut up. There--behind the bed--

Wand held cautiously out before her, she edged slightly forward. There was definitely an odd, lumpy shape behind the mattress...

"Wingardium leviosa," muttered Lily, pointing her wand at the shape. The sheets ruffled, as if under a brisk wind, and then the shape rose into the air. It was unmistakably Anika, her usual marble-angel paleness reduced to an unhealthy pallor, and one hand bleeding profusely, as though it had been smashed through glass.

Lily dropped the body onto the bed and rushed over to it, ripping the tangled robes from her friend's throat to facilitate breathing, and snatched Anika's wrist, checking for a pulse. There was one--very faint, but there--

And then the door burst open for a second time, and this time Sirius and James came exploding in, accompanied by a cloud of splinters that told her they'd tried to break in without waiting for ID confirmation.

"We heard screaming," panted James. "Took us forever to get past Peeves--"

"What happened?" snapped Sirius, catching sight of Lily. "Where's Ani?" His face bore a strange, alien mixture of utter fear and boiling rage, and it made Lily quail slightly inside. 

"She's here." Lily stepped back, revealing Anika's prone form on the bed.

"She's not--she's not--" Sirius's voice was shaking slightly as he wobbled forward, towards the two of them.

"She's alive, but she's horribly cold and I don't know why, and it looks like she smashed that mirror over her bed for some reason. We should get her down to the hospital wing straight away."

"What about _me?_" whined the mirror.

"Shut up," said James and Sirius simultaneously.

"Yeah," added Lily, feeling inadequate.

Remus knew nothing about Anika's condition. He had cloistered himself in his office with over twenty sheets of possible translations, an illusion generator, and Jill Prewett, and was now having a rather romantic dinner--or as romantic as it could be, when every ten seconds he would have to lean over and scribble some new finding on his parchments. 

"Stop it," said Jill earnestly, taking a bite of turkey. "Just for ten minutes, can't you stop it?"

"No," said Remus hungrily. "D'you think this looks like Nauthiz or Gebo?"

She leaned over the plates, surveying the illusion. "It's Nauthiz. Oh, Remus, for God's sake _stop it._ Just eat something."

"I am eating," said Remus, shoveling a forkful of beans into his mouth. "Look, see? Now, what about this one? I thought it was Ehwaz at first, but now I'm starting to think it looks like a really scratched-up Mannaz."

"_Remus!_" Jill waved an irritable wand at the illusion and the translations, which both flickered and vanished. "_There. _Now we can have a nice, civil, romantic dinner, without--"

And then the door flew open, splintering against the wall. Remus sprang to his feet, grabbing his wand, but whoever it was was too quick--there was a loud bang and he shot backwards, the wand flying out of his hands.

_Only Circle members are able to open that door! _he thought, his mind wiped blank with panic. _What the bloody hell--_

"Benvolio, I presume?" said a dark, cold voice, and a tall man was stepping through the twisted wreckage of the doorway, a black half-mask partially obscuring his face.

"Get out," snarled Remus, fighting his way to his feet. Jill, cowering at the desk, gave a little whimper.

"You can make this hard, if you want to," said the man, leaning comfortably against the broken doorjamb. Remus had the horrible, chilling feeling that, although the door was unbarred and unobscured, no one outside the room would be able to tell that anything strange was going on... "I don't think you want to."

"I'm not going to tell you anything," said Remus, more bravely than he felt.

"Oh?" The man sounded amused. "Will she?"

"Don't you_ dare _try to hurt her!" Remus was on his feet in an instant, knowing he couldn't do anything to protect Jill, knowing...

"Don't worry," drawled the man, tapping his wand unconcernedly against his other hand. "I'd rather hurt you." He leveled his wand at Remus, even as--behind him--several more goons piled into the room. "Impedimentia."

Remus felt his arms and legs lock to his sides and he collapsed, stiff-limbed, to the ground, knocking his head painfully against the desk in his descent. Why wasn't Jill doing anything? Was she just going to sit there?

_Ani,_ a treacherous part of his mind thought, _would have dived for the wand and gone for all of them, guns blazing, by now. She might even have won._

"There," said the leader of the invading party, not changing his lazy stance at all. "Now we can talk civilly."

He smiled.

  
  


When the first of Remus's screams hit the invisible barrier outside his office, Peter Pettigrew cringed and crumpled against the wall, silent tears sliding down his cheeks. How had he sunk so low? How could he have betrayed Remus? His hands clenched and unclenched, remembering...

_Are you going to help me again, Peter?_

_ No! I'm not going to help you any more!_

_ Aren't you?_

_ Never!_

_ Why not?_

_ I...I'm not going to betray them! My friends...my comrades..._

_ Ah, but you've already betrayed them, Peter...it's too late now..._

_ It isn't!_

_ Do you think they'll forgive you, Peter? Once they find out what you've done, do you think they'll just...let it go?_

_ I--_

_ They'll kill you, Peter._

_ No they won't!_

_ You might as well help me. You've crossed the line, now. It's too late...you can't go back..._

_ I--I--_

Just as Voldemort had known he would, he'd given in. Again. He'd told the Dark Lord how to get past Dumbledore's wards, how to reach Remus's office. He'd opened the office door when the Death Eaters apparated in. And now they would torture him, torture Moony until he gave out the information they wanted.

Though he couldn't hear Remus's cries, he could imagine them well enough. He knew what the Cruciatus curse felt like...oh yes, he knew well what the Curse felt like. 

Peter Pettigrew whimpered in anguish.

_Oh God, Remus, I'm so sorry..._

  
  


Sirius sat by Anika's bedside, listening to her fevered breathing and occasionally sponging the sweat off her forehead. Dumbledore had assigned him the task before apparating off somewhere, not telling anyone where he was going. He had a habit of doing that, Sirius thought irritably, pushing a spare strand of hair out of his friend's face. Of course Dumbledore had business of his own to attend to, but when one of his own wizards was in as bad shape as Ani was...

Her lips were twitching, her eyes convusively clenching shut, and she took deep, shuddering breaths. A small moan escaped her throat, and she kept shivering as though she were cold when in fact her skin burned under Sirius's touch.

_Fever dream_, he thought sympathetically, running his hand along her clammy hairline. _Poor Ani._

In a sudden explosion of movement, Anika clutched at his arm, her eyes wide open and staring into the room, blank and terrified. Her breath came faster now, her chest thrashing furiously under her thin hospital nightgown, and he realized that she was beginning to cry.

"Hush," whispered Sirius softly, gathering her into his arms as she sobbed and shook against him like a child. "Hush, baby. It's all right."

And then he was just whispering into her ear, knowing she couldn't understand or hear but just wishing she could. "Ani, when I was a kid and I was sick, my mum used to sing to me...I know, it's the tritest, sappiest thing I've ever heard, and if you weren't out of your mind with fever and pain you'd slap me silly for suggesting it. But it always made me feel better."

He didn't sing much, and the cigarettes had made his voice huskier, darker, than it would otherwise have been...but Lydia Black, his mother, had once had a fine voice, and Sirius had inherited it, low and sweet and smoky.

_Summertime, and the livin' is easy_

_ Fish are jumpin', and the cotton is high_

_ Well your daddy's rich, and your mama's good-lookin'_

_ So hush, little baby, don't you cry._

He rocked her slowly back and forth as he sang, feeling like an absolute idiot but at the same time feeling oddly comforted, serene.

_One of these mornings, you're gonna rise up singing_

_ You're gonna spread your wings, oh and take to the sky_

_ But till that morning, there's nothing can harm you_

_ With mama and daddy standing by._

  
  


The man's boot heels clicked on the floor next to Remus's head. He could hear the footsteps, feel every vibration they sent racing into his skull. He was breathing heavily now, drawing in breath in ragged, painful sobs, and dimly, he could hear Jill sobbing "Stop, stop it...don't hurt him any more..."

"Who are you trying to protect, Benvolio?" asked the stranger in strangely gentle tones. "Your friends? What makes you think they'd protect you?"

"They would," said Remus, forcing the words through his burning throat. "No matter what, they would."

The man laughed, and grabbed Remus's chin, forcing Remus to look him full in the face. "Is that what you think? Do you want to know what they really think of you?"

And then he was falling, falling into the man's cold, pale-blue eyes, and he was being spun inside out and backwards and his head was spinning and--

He was standing in a room--all furnished in blue, it was, with stone walls and sun-flooded windows. It was the Ravenclaw girls' dormitory, he realized in surprise. What was he doing there?

As if some invisible wind had caught it, the curtains of the nearest bed drew back. Two people lay there, wound into a tight embrace. The girl's face was turned towards him--Ani?

_He's an idiot if he thinks this can hurt me,_ thought Remus with bleak gratification. _I'm over her._

And then the couple rolled over, and he saw who the man was. 

Sirius.

But not a twenty-year-old Sirius--no, this Sirius was younger, unscarred, his face still smooth instead of speckled with the rough stubble he now wore. The two were passionately tangled in each other, kissing as though each kiss was breath and life...

They wouldn't, Remus thought desperately. He's bluffing. He's trying to get me to believe an illusion.

_What about Remus?_ moaned Ani against Sirius's lips.

_Who cares about him? _Sirius flashed her that quick, breathtaking smile and stifled any other protests she might have with his body.

_ He'll be hurt._

_ So what? He's not worth your concern, Ani._

"I know it's a lie," said Remus aloud. "And this is the stupidest torture I've ever heard. You should go back to ripping my insides out if you want me to tell you where the runes are."

But still...he'd always wondered...Sirius and Ani always spent so much time together...could they ever have...

"They care about me."

_Keep telling yourself that._

"They do!"

But he was looking into their eyes, and he realized that he'd seen them look at each other that way before...it wasn't just a dream, he'd seen them...

And then the room swirled away, and he was back in his own bruised, aching body, lying on the floor of his office.

"With that in mind," came his torturer's voice, unhurried and comfortable, "let's try this again. Where are the rune translations?"

"I'm not going to tell you," and he gritted his teeth against the inevitable. And then the pain hit him, and he was being ripped into shreds, he was burning, every inch of his body was being eaten alive--he tried not to scream, but he couldn't help it--the fire ripped into his throat and he was trying to throw up but there was nothing left in his stomach--

"No!" screamed someone.

_Oh God, Jill_, he thought wearily. _Don't do anything stupid._

"I'll tell you where they are! I'll tell you...just stop hurting him..."

Panic hit him like a lightning bolt. "Jilly, don't!" He tried to scramble to his feet--"You can't, Jilly, you can't, stop it--"

One of the larger men stepped forward and kicked him, hard, in the stomach. Remus gasped, doubled over, and rolled onto his back, unable to speak.

She was trembling, sobbing into her hands. "The first verse...I have it..." She was mumbling something into the air, and then the precious parchments with their hard-earned translation was in her hands, and she was handing it to the tallest man, tears coursing down her cheeks. "And the second verse...the second verse..."

"No, Jilly, no..." His voice was almost a moan.

She stopped, about to sketch out the figures that would draw the runes to her. "I..."

"Hurry up, bitch!" barked the leader.

"Jill..."

And then she let her hands fall to her sides. The half-formed illusions faded away, and she stared up at them, for the first time seeming almost dignified. "No."

The leader flashed her a toothy smile. "Well. I see you've outgrown your cowardice."

She met his gaze fully, drawing herself up as though the sight of Remus's silent defiance gave her strength.

He shrugged. "Then you've also outlived your usefulness. _Avada Kedavra_."

A flash of poisonously green light--a vast whirling sound, as though some foul wind rushed through the chamber--

Jill collapsed, soundlessly, into a crumpled heap on the floor. 

"Enter Ophelia," said the leader, the smile on his face not even twitching. "You'll let her know we stopped by, won't you, Benvolio? I'll be back for you, you can count on it."

And then they were gone, leaving Remus a broken heap on the flagstones even as the air whirled away and Dumbledore was suddenly there, a look of terrible anger mixed with terrible helplessness on his peaceful old face. 

_He was too late_, thought Remus in grieving disbelief just before the pain became too much to bear. _Dumbledore was too late._

The room fell away, and the last thing he saw was Jill's face, pale and slack against her white-blond hair.


	10. Just for the Moment

My God, you guys, this is *so long!* It's really very frightening...honestly, I don't know where it all came from...but luckily for you it's all in little vignettes, so you don't have to concentrate on any one scene or moment for too long, you silly people with your ten-second attention spans. (not that i'm excusing myself; i obviously had the attention span of a gnat when i *wrote* this, so why shouldn't you have it when you *read* this?)

oh yes, and i apologize; something of a Remus shortage in this chapter, sad to say. definitely a peter shortage. it'll get better.

And now, big thanks to all who reviewed part eight:Voicelady, stinkerbell (muah! stinkerbell!), Olive Green, Lilith True (ooh, *two* people reviewed twice...*feels very special*), everlastingwhy (i thought i *did* stamp "expendable" on Jill's forehead! you know, in my first draft she didn't even make an appearance until the scene where she died...), Arabella Figg, my magnificent soz, damia, Viola, Shakira (is that after the singer? because if it is, i love you...no one else I know has even heard of her!), Sherry (write more, sherry! more!), Cassie Cass Cassandra Claire, who suffered through b-reading eighteen pages of first draft....o_O (*cheers for Cassie and dances around her waving pompoms*) peeves_is_peeved, who writes kick-ass music and of course has the world's best musical taste, lone astronomer (the chimney sweep song is mine, i say! mine! *grin* oh, okay, it can be yours too), and Al! All of you go read Dracaena Draco and review it, or I'll kick you in the nose. It's really truly great. 

And I'm spent.

  
  


schnoogles,

rave

keeper of Sirius's enormous broom (*evil smile*)

p.s. i am not, actually, the keeper of sirius's enormous broom. j.k. rowling is. she's the keeper of everything. except anika, she's mine. MINE. and...er....c'est tout? oh no, "someone to watch over me" belongs to george gershwin and my voice teacher. (mr. williams says: TRILL on the E! TRILL!)

p.p.s. There is SEX in this chapter. non-explicit but definitely implied SEX. and mushy girly stuff. and cute little babies. *shudder* so be warned.

p.p.p.s. to clarify: lily and james don't move into their new house directly after telling ani and sirius they're getting one. they're still living in their hogsmeade apartment for a while. so that should make things a bit less confusing...

p.p.p.p.s. gingerbread heaven still awaits reviewers...*big hopeful puppy eyes*

* * *

Bryter Layter--Part Nine

Just for the Moment

* * *

"Amen," rumbled the congregation, staring down into the dark hole of Jill Prewett's grave. There was a soft thump as someone threw their handful of grave dirt onto the coffin; Remus felt someone stuff a handful of the dark, rich-smelling loam into his hand, and he opened his fingers, letting it fall softly onto the coffin lid.

The sun broke through the clouds for one shifting moment, and then retreated. It was neither a cruelly sunny day nor a properly rainy one: it was mostly cloudy, and awfully chilly for September. He could see Anika shivering uncontrollably at her place across the grave. Lily had an arm about her friend's shoulders, but Remus knew that Anika's reaction had nothing to do with grief. She'd barely known Jill, at any rate. The girl was ill, there was no denying it.

Or maybe it wasn't simple illness. She'd seemed to be recovering, but then she'd come to the funeral, and at the first scent of fresh grave dirt she'd had a sort of relapse. Remus could see the bright, feverish spots of color at her sharp cheekbones, the dark hollows under her eyes. 

He forced himself to look back down at the grave. He wished, desperately wished, that he could feel something--anything besides this vague sort of guilty apathy, nothing quite as concrete as self-blame, nothing quite as violent as sorrow.

_Would anything have been different_, he wondered,_ if I'd loved her more? Maybe I could have protected her...or, _he realized,_ if I couldn't love her, I could've had the courage to tell her so. _

Anika felt the cold, sluggish water pulling at her ankles, apparently gentle but with a violent, unpredictable undertow...it was a great effort to resist that undertow, to stay within the borders of Life, but Jill's spirit was so close...

_You could save her_, whispered a nasty little voice at the back of her mind. _Just reach into the water and pull her out. Just like the mouse._

No, but that was wrong. Bringing back human beings was an unpleasant business; they could retain their soul in a human body, but the body would rot and the soul would keep burning within it, unable to be released except by another necromancer. Usually the Returned were desperately tragic figures, childlike in their innocence and naivete (for the mind was not necessarily brought back with the soul) unable to do anything but mindlessly obey the commands of the Necromancer who brought them back. Anika shuddered at the thought.

_You never asked for this gift,_ said the cold little voice, _it just happened to you. It's not wrong to use it; you were given it for a reason. You could just reach down...into the water..._

The chilling current grew still colder and suddenly Anika broke and twisted to her knees, retching into the sparse cold grass as the group of Circle wizards around the grave gasped and turned to see what was wrong. And then there were strong arms around her neck and thighs, and someone was wiping her sweaty hair out of her eyes, and someone was swinging her up and carrying her away, muttering a quick apology to Dumbledore as he did so.

"I'm sorry," moaned Anika. "I'm so sorry."

The voice that replied was smoky and warm...Sirius... "Don't be. You're ill. You shouldn't have come out in the first place."

"I didn't mean to..."

"I know. Shh. Come on, up to your room. You're not going back to that hospital wing, it smells like the insides of shoes in there and you've spent enough time in those crinkly beds anyway."

They had reached the castle and he was carrying her up one of the massive staircases when suddenly she heard a shrill, spiteful voice crowing, "Ooh, what's this then? Am I interrupting a romance novel?"

"Go away, Peeves," said Sirius wearily.

"Going to carry her over the threshold, then? Don't let me distract you," cooed the poltergeist, swooping around them in tight little circles. 

"Ani," muttered Sirius under his breath, "what was that spell Remus thought up? The prank-reversal charm?"

"Waddiwassi," whispered Anika. "Quick, those circles are going to make me puke again."

Almost lazily, Sirius produced his wand--somehow managing not to drop her--and pointed it at Peeves. "Waddiwassi!"

Suddenly, Peeves's circles were completely out of control--he was spiraling up into the air, cursing, and then he hit the ceiling with a crash and hovered there, slightly dazed.

"Hurry," said Anika urgently, "before he recovers," and Sirius sprinted up the rest of the staircase to the West Tower room, both of them giggling with relief.

He placed her gently on the bed and pulled the comforter over her, smiling tenderly into her eyes. "Now, don't you dare get up. I'll get you a book and some hot tea and honey, shall I?"

"Thank you, Mother," teased Anika, fighting the nausea that had invaded her stomach.

"No problem, dear," said Sirius amiably, and slipped out the door.

When someone knocked a few moments later, Anika said "come in" without thinking, and so almost choked when the door opened and someone sallow and bearded and _definitely_ not Sirius came in.

"Severus," she managed to say, going suddenly very cold. "What do you want?"

Snape looked very mutinous. "I brought you a Stomach-Settling Draft."

"Why?" asked Anika suspiciously. "Did you poison it?"

"I'm not the same person I was when I was fifteen," said Snape softly. "I don't like to see people sick if I can fix it. Even if I don't like them."

"It's not _my_ fault you don't like me," Anika spat. "Trying to feel me up in the garden after the Halloween ball didn't do wonders for our relationship."

"I was fifteen," said Snape again, watching her with eyes like tunnels. "You can't keep judging me like I'm fifteen."

It was like some bizarre dream--Severus Snape, the bane of her youth, was lecturing her on taking the high moral path and bringing her medicine for her stomach. "Thank you for the draft, Severus," she said expressionlessly, not looking at him. "You can...put it by the bed. I'll take it in a minute."

"All right," said Severus, coldly. "Don't think this means I like you, Donelan--I just don't want you throwing up all over everything."

"Good," said Anika, feeling a sudden, overwhelming rush of relief. "For a minute there I thought I was going to have to pretend to like you."

"A fate far worse than death," said Severus rather bitterly, and then the door creaked open again and Sirius came in, holding a mug of hot tea in one hand and a pile of books in the other. He stopped very suddenly at the sight of Severus and said coldly--to Anika--"What's _he _want?"

"None of your business, _Black_," snapped Severus.

"He was just leaving," said Anika, arching one eyebrow at Severus.

"Good," said Sirius icily, staring at Severus with absolute hatred in his pure-black eyes.

Severus's eyes widened; he looked from Sirius to Anika, and then back to Sirius, and some kind of realization came into his dark eyes. "_Oh_," he said bitingly, and sniffed.

"Go on," said Anika. "Go."

A tiny, unpleasant smile tinged Severus's mouth, and he whipped around and left, the draft he'd brought still smoking by the bed.

"What was _he _in here about?" asked Sirius, staring piercingly at the door.

Anika shrugged. "Brought me some kind of medicine, but I think Dumbledore made him."

"Don't drink it! I'll bet you ten Galleons it's poisoned--"

"You're on," laughed Anika, and before he could respond she'd raised the goblet to her lips and swallowed it all in one gulp, making an awful face as it slid bitterly down towards her stomach.

"Ani, you _idiot!_" gasped Sirius, snatching the cup away an instant too late. "You're going to end up--belching slugs, or something!"

Anika sat very still, but nothing unpleasant seemed to be happening--except the horrible, fat, prickly aftertaste of the potion in her mouth. Indeed, her stomach seemed to be quieting, although her headache felt slightly worse.

"I'm going to hold you to your ten Galleons, you know," she said, and laughed for no reason at all.

*

Lily came into her friend's room at ten o'clock that night to find her bent over a rack of test tubes on her desk, squinting at the information label on a blood sample and absently stirring a bubbling concoction over a Bunsen burner with one hand.

"What are you doing?" scolded Lily, the sudden noise making Anika jump and almost drop the sample. "Working? Now? In your condition?"

"Gods, Lily, you nearly gave me a heart attack," said Anika weakly, clutching her chest. "Knock next time, would you?"

"Oh, _you_," said Lily scathingly, snatching the sample away and turning off the Bunsen flame. "You are awful. Go to bed, for heaven's sake. Sirius warned me you'd be doing this."

"He did, did he?" asked Anika grimly, sighing. "Should've known."

Lily made a face. "I hate to say it, but for once in his life our incorrigible Padfoot is actually right. You _should_ be resting."

"Just because no one else around here ever does any _work_," but Anika sighed and climbed resignedly into the bed. Lily, with a comforting creak, sat down next to her and passed her the book that was on the nightstand--though not before sneaking a glance at the cover. "'Powers You Never Knew You Had and What to Do With Them Now You've Wised Up.' Sounds like interesting reading...what're you looking up? Been seeing the future lately?"

"Nose out, carrot top, or I'll turn you into a moose," said Anika threateningly, opening the book to the N section. 

"I won't fit into my wedding dress!" said Lily in mock horror, widening her bright green eyes.

Anika burst out laughing. "You'd be a very lovely moose, Lily dear."

"Not much comfort when you've got antlers," said Lily bluntly, wrinkling her nose. "Anyway, I had a real question for you, if you want to shut up and listen."

Anika peered owlishly at her friend over the top of her book. "Why is it that I don't have any friends with whom I don't constantly bicker?"

"What?" asked Lily, momentarily confused.

Anika sighed. "Nothing. Go ahead."

Lily glared at her. "I was _going_ to ask you if you wanted to be a bridesmaid at my wedding."

Anika dropped the book on its spine and gaped at Lily, open-mouthed. "Wh--you want me to--"

"Yes, you idiot," and Lily's face split into a wide grin. "You. Will you?"

"Well of _course_," Anika fairly screamed, and tried to jump up and hug her friend, but found her feet entangled in the sheets and ended up doing a very undignified belly-flop into the mattress.

Lily helped her up, giggling. "Calm, dear, calm. You're sick."

"To hell with calm!" cried Anika happily. "And to perdition with sick! When do we get to go pick out dresses?"

*

"Moony looks like Dracula, Dracula," sang Sirius, waving his hands enthusiastically in time to his strange little ditty. "Moony looks like Dra-cu-la in his brand--new--suit!"

"Better than me," said Peter irritably, sneaking a glance at himself in the mirror. "I look like a vaguely threatening penguin. How'd I let myself get into this?"

"Maybe because James is your best friend, you silly git," said Sirius, surveying himself critically in Madame Malkin's large mirrors.

"Oh, but you look _magnifique_!" cried the mirror in a sweet, breathy French accent. "Zat collar ees _so_ perfect on you! Turn it up a beet, round zee edges--oui, comme ça! Ooh, you are making me get all foggy!"

"Er," said Sirius uncertainly. 

Remus sighed. "I do look like Dracula, don't I?"

"A lot of women really like that," said Sirius encouragingly. "There's something very sexy about vampire chic. Get yourself some plastic fangs and a cape and I bet all the girls will just fall over you. Maybe some of the men, too, you never know."

"Thanks," said Remus expressionlessly, staring at his own haggard reflection. "Thanks a lot."

*

The Godric's Hollow church smelled like lilies--of course, all the flowers that twined about its small wooden walls were Easter lilies, white and pure. Sirius, feeling very starched in his newly-pressed tuxedo, was trying to ignore his pounding headache. Last night, he'd had at least six (seven?) glasses of a drink he'd invented himself, which he'd called "Willing Dryad." It had been quite the success at the bachelor party, especially taking into consideration that Sirius himself had no real idea what was in it, and suspected that the ingredients might include Mrs. Skour's All-Purpose Cleaner and possibly some kind of pesticide. And it had given him a Zeus of a headache.

James, on the other hand, had managed to resist the temptation to drink, and looked bright-eyed and alert, staring determinedly down the aisle, a white rose in his lapel.

"Shoulders back, buddy," muttered Sirius in his friend's ear. "Chin up. Here she comes..."

"Oh god," whispered James, shaking a little.

"Don't get nervous!" hissed Sirius. "This is the proudest fucking moment of your life. This is what you've been waiting for since you first met her. _Look up. Look at her._"

And then the entire congregation was turning in their chairs, craning their heads to look at the double doors as they creaked open and someone was floating in...a vision in white, a Lily-that-was-not-Lily but was something entirely more, something too beautiful to be earthly. Her hair--now nearly to her waist, thick and in shining, auburn waves, ribbons braided skillfully into it--shimmered down her back, under the delicate lacy veil that streamed out behind her. The gown was high-necked, low-waisted, with translucent lace sleeves and a skirt that flowed and frothed around her feet. She appeared to be staring fixedly at the floor, and the petals of the bouquet she held trembled slightly as she paced slowly down the aisle, Professor Dumbledore, on her arm. Behind her walked her matron of honor, Aline Sinistra, and her six bridesmaids. Anika, clad in a simple, silver dress, seemed to be blushing almost as much as Lily was.

In the audience, Hagrid--who towered a good three feet above anyone else, even seated--gave a muffled sob and collapsed into his handkerchief. Minerva McGonagall, though her eyes were watering as well, patted his arm sympathetically.

James swallowed audibly.

"She's breathtaking, isn't she?" said Sirius softly.

"Lily always takes my breath away," whispered James.

"Lily?" asked Sirius, momentarily confused. "Who said anything about Lily?"

James's eyes widened and he shot a sharp glance at his best man, but Sirius seemed to have already forgotten what he'd said, and as James looked back at his wife-to-be, he found himself forgetting it as well. 

_I'm not ready for this,_ his mind gabbled desperately. _It's too much, I'm too young. Look at Sirius, he's so independent, so confident, so...single. God help me_--and he looked up at Lily, utter panic jabbing at his mind--_I'm marrying this woman, and she's very beautiful and very graceful and expecting something of me and I have no idea who she is! I don't know anything about her! Who is she? How can I possibly be spending the rest of my life with her?_

And then they were holding hands and the priest was saying something about do you take this man until death do you part--_Death! Forever and ever and ever! No freedom! Never again! Forever! Who _is_ this girl?! Forever! Help! Get me out of here!--_and then James William Potter do you take this woman?

_Do I?_ he wondered frantically. _Can I? Can I possibly take care of her?_

"I do," he heard himself saying, without really meaning to.

And then the priest was saying "You may kiss the bride," and he was turning around and lifting her veil.

One look into her emerald eyes--as confused as his own, as frightened and unsure and worried--and suddenly there were no more questions. He leaned down, slowly, almost hesitating, but then their lips were together and everything was exactly as it should be. 

Anika whooped, but then went red and clapped her hands over her mouth, horrendously embarrassed.

Lily and James turned out to face the sea of people who loved them, who they loved, and they clasped hands tightly, grinned at each other, and broke into a run down the aisle, Lily's veil flying off her head as she laughed and ran faster. 

Sirius clapped so hard his hands hurt, joining in the sudden rousing cheers of the rest of the church and Hagrid's bawling. Anika, fumbling for her wand (which she'd kept up her sleeve), yelled, "_Effloresco!_" and white daisy petals, lily petals snowedfrom the ceiling and walls, coating the happy newlyweds as they exploded out the doors into the sunshine and everyone converged on them at once.

*

The reception was properly classy, at least until Sirius, in proper best-man tradition, stole and put on Lily's veil, shoved a piece of cake into James's face and offered sweetly to lick it off. This nearly got him kicked out of the church; only Lily's last-minute intervention between her furious priest (who adored her) and Sirius saved him, and Anika still hadn't stopped laughing by the time of the last toast.

Sirius stood up, clanging a spoon against his glass, and the chatter in the room went silent, all eyes turning to him. He looked, to Anika's utter amazement, completely sober, and cleared his throat.

"Um." Sirius paused, trying to collect his thoughts into a coherent speech. "Well." Another short silence; he stared around, realizing how everyone's absolute attention was focused on him. It was unnerving. "When I first met James, it was on the train to Hogwarts, our first year. Um. We sort of stumbled into the same compartment. He had sandwiches; I had none; I took his and ran. And that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

There was some nervous laughter. Sirius looked down; Anika was staring up at him, absently twirling a lily between her fingers, her head resting on her hand, her eyes heavy pools. She was smiling dreamily, her hair falling loose from its sleek updo to curl around her face. He gulped, continuing. 

"I met Lily around the same time, and I always...they always seemed to me to be almost one unit, even during the seven-hundredth time that they'd broken up and were ostensibly 'not speaking to one another.'" Laughter. "They're both very smart, very good-looking--" yet more laughter "--and very _kind_, sweet, generous people. They were both always giving themselves away. And I really want to keep this short, so--um--I--what I really was trying to say was--I'm glad they both found someone to give themselves away to. They found each other--they balance each other out...Lily gives to James, James gives to Lily. No one is hurt. An arrangement like that..." He grinned at James, spreading his hands wide. "To find your match, your perfect mate...that's a chance in a million. And nobody deserves it more than you two."

There was a collective sigh from the room, and the scattered "Awww..."

Remus cupped his hands around his mouth, yelled, "Padfoot, you talk pretty!" and ducked beneath the table to avoid Sirius' furious eye and Peter's laughter.

Deciding to ignore him, Sirius turned back to James, murmured, "To James and Lily Potter," and lifted his goblet high, his smile growing wider as he saw his best friend blushing profusely under his gaze. 

"To James and Lil," called back the assembled guests, one and all lifting their glasses high.

And then the band struck up again, and there was some polite applause and people drifted into couples for the last dance of the night.

_There's a saying old, says that love is blind_

_Still we're often told, seek and ye shall find_

_ So I'm going to seek a certain lad I've had_

_ In mind..._

Sirius found himself suddenly muffled in a hug--looked up, and into James's infinitely gentle brown eyes. 

"Hey," said James softly. "It's been great."

Sirius forced a laugh. "It's your wedding, remember? That's a _good _thing. You act like you're about to die."

"It's a distinct possibility." James wasn't smiling; he was gripping Sirius's shoulder tightly, as though he were physically unable to let go. "I just wanted--to--tell you. That you're not as much of a motherfucking idiot as I like to pretend you are."

"No swearing! We're in a church," Sirius reprimanded him in mock horror.

James didn't laugh. "Padfoot--"

"I know, I know," and Sirius looked away. "I'm just no good at this male bonding crap."

"As long as you don't lick any more cake off my face," said James, and made a horrible face. "There was something else I wanted to tell you."

Sirius glanced up at him, not feeling even the faintest urge to laugh. "Yeah."

"Whatever--whatever happens," and James swallowed hard "--you've got to take your chances when they come, all right? You can't put anything off, because you never know whether or not you'll get a second chance."

Sirius blinked in confusion. "What are you--"

James groaned in exasperation. "Just how dense _are _you, Pads? I made that as obvious I could!" At his friend's uncomprehending look, James let out a long breath of aggravated air. "Never mind. I'm going to go dance with Lily."

_Looking everywhere, haven't found him yet_

_ He's the big affair I cannot forget_

_ Only man I ever think of with regret..._

Sirius didn't answer, didn't respond as James turned on his heel and took his wife's hand, leading her out onto the floor. Anika was sitting alone at the table, head in her arms, still playing with that same long-stemmed lily, one foot swinging back and forth under her frothy skirt in time to the music in subconscious invitation.

"Hey," he said softly.

_I'd like to add his initial to my monogram_

_ Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost lamb?_

She looked up, made a small tired sound, and grinned at him. "'Lo, Si."

He gestured out at the dance floor, plopping down on the bench beside her. "Not dancing?"

"Nah. I've got two left feet." She laughed self-consciously and leaned against him for a moment--then suddenly pulled away, going slightly pink and pushing her stray hair behind her ears. "Oop. Sorry."

"Sorry?" he echoed, confused. 

"Nothing," and she went very bright red and refused to look at him.

"What are you on about?" he asked, completely perplexed.

"Nothing, nothing--" Anika shook her dark head furiously. "I didn't want to intrude...leaning on you, and all."

"You're being stupid," he said faintly, trying as hard as he could to understand her. "You lean on me all the time. What's wrong with you tonight?"

She groaned, burying her head in her arms. "I don't even _know_, Si. Everything's just so weird. Lily and James getting married...and seeing everyone..." Her voice, oddly muffled by her arms, seemed to break slightly. 

"Your biological clock," intoned Sirius, "is ticking away. You're old, Ani, old as the hills. Nineteen! Nearly a thousand!"

"Shut up," came Anika's muffled voice, and she slapped at him with one hand. "It isn't funny."

"It is," said Sirius shamelessly, and then he was reaching out for her, grasping her chin in one hand and forcing her to look at him. She looked utterly miserable, her eyes--_those eyes, like the moon, the stars, the sky_--somehow deeply sad, her lower lip--_oh what a lovely mouth, as wide and warm and soft as melted butter_--trembling...

"I _am _a little misery tonight, aren't I?" she managed in a would-be-light tone, unable to look away from him.

"Dance?" crept out of his mouth before he could stop it, to dangle in front of them like a dare.

She scrubbed a hand across her face, looking very young for an instant, and then looked back up at him, a tiny smile teasing the corners of her mouth. "All right."

_There's a somebody I'm longing to see_

_ I hope that he_

_ Turns out to be_

_ Someone to watch over me_

She let her arms move, as if of their own volition, around his neck, nestling her head under his chin as his hands fell to the small of her back. "You're so tall..."

"Well, so are you," he countered, and she could feel the laughter that hovered in the back of his throat as it vibrated through her head.

They fell into a soft, slow rhythm, and suddenly, for no real reason, he crushed his arms so tight around her that she thought her ribs might break. She gasped out in pain and surprise. "Sirius! Ow!"

"Sorry," he whispered, feeling an idiot. Whatever had possessed him to do that? Some primal man-urge, he thought with dark humor. Me big and strong. Me protect woman. From imaginary enemies. At friends' wedding. Boy, me ever macho.

_She smells really good. Why do I always notice how she smells? That faint wet rain-scent, fresh, clean...the way her arms slope to her shoulders, the way her wrist bones swell under her skin like tiny suns. The stupidest things. Who cares?_

_I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood_

_ I know I could always be good_

_ To one who'll watch over me_

She found herself completely unable to understand her own feelings, to understand why the mere touch of his hand against her spine was making her shake, why the smell of him was making her feel almost sick, crazy...as though she had a fever but somehow more wonderful.

_The way his hair falls over his forehead, that beautiful small movement he makes when he shakes the strands out of his eyes, the way his eyes are always moving, dark anti-stars in a face as white as the moon--over here, over there, looking, searching for something. For what? And the way he doesn't smell like tobacco...wait, he doesn't?_

_Won't you tell him please to put on some speed_

_ Follow my lead_

_ Oh, how I need_

_ Someone to watch over me..._

The piano's last notes faded, and Anika rested her head on Sirius's chest, still swaying back and forth as though the music was still playing. He grinned into her hair. "Song's over..."

"I want to go to sleep," she said plaintively into his chest. "Leave me alone."

"Look, if you really want to do that we should be horizontal," said Sirius without thinking, "not standing up."

Her face snapped up to his, horrified. "_What?!_"

Sirius went redder than Anika had been a moment before. "Nothing!"

Anika sighed and shook her head, drawing slowly out of his arms. "You're so stupid it's almost endearing."

"Thanks," mumbled Sirius. "You, too."

*

"You're getting _a what?!_" 

Anika stared at her friend in utter horror, as though Lily had said "a fatal brain tumor" or "six new husbands."

"A house!" said Lily proudly. "In Godric's Hollow! With stairs, and a cupboard, and" her face expressed throes of domestic ecstasy "a real _kitchen_..."

"You are spineless," snarled Sirius, directing this at James. "Spineless! Hopeless! Godric's Hollow is _hours _away! And isn't that the place with the Apparition wards up around everything?" 

"That's part of the reason we _chose_ it," Lily pointed out. "Security. We can't be too careful..."

"You're _always_ too careful," said Sirius furiously. "Both of you! What with you two moving out to the boonies, and Peter already off living with _Muggles_, for Chrissake--I'll never see any of you ever again! Except Ani and Remus, I mean," he amended, noticing Anika glaring pointedly at him.

"Oh come off it, Sirius, it's just a good excuse to spend more time on that motorcycle of yours," snappedJames, irritated.

Sirius considered this for a moment, then heaved a sigh. "It's a fair cop, I s'pose. Still, I don't know about this whole thing...Respectable people, buying cozy little town houses...what's next? Matching china! Engraved napkin holders! Babies!"

"We already have matching china," said Lily in a businesslike manner. "Molly Haberford--I guess she'd be Molly Weasley now--from school, gave it to us. Would you believe Molly?" she added, to James. "Two babies already! And twins in the oven, she told me in private. Lovely boys, her two..." 

"Babies're coming to you, too, so don't snicker," said Sirius in tones like the knell of doom. "Babies with curly red hair and big brown eyes and little chubby cheeks." He pinched invisible cheeks in demonstration. "Babies with pet names like 'Pumpkin' and 'Cutie-Pie-Pie.' Sickening."

"I'll let you be godfather," said James cajolingly.

"Which makes you honorary godmother, Ani," Lily put in, laughing.

Anika choked, and made a strangled noise of protest.

Sirius stared at Lily, at Anika, back to Lily. "I am not sharing my godfathering priveleges with her!"

"Why is my godmothership dependent on his godfathership?!" demanded Anika of Lily, who was laughing too hard to be any help. "That isn't fair!"

"You know, I don't think godfathership _has_ any priveleges," said James thoughtfully.

"That's stupid," said Sirius, irritated. "Why not?"

James shrugged. "Just the way it is, I suppose. You just have to buy the kid lots of presents, that sort of thing."

"Hah!" said Anika triumphantly, turning away from the helpless Lily. "Take it, then! I want no part of this thankless business!"

"Too late," said Sirius immediately. "You have to help me now!"

"I do not!"

"Yes you do!"

James took one look at his wife, who was convulsed with laughter, and suddenly found himself joining in her hilarity.

Anika glanced at Sirius, at the helpless Potters, back at Sirius. "Um. Should we do something about this?"

"What's so funny?" wondered Sirius aloud. "Whatever is the matter with them?"

"You idiots," Lily managed, "you two absolute _idiots_!" And she collapsed again, in paroxysms of uncontrollable laughter, clutching the gasping James for support.

Anika shrugged at Sirius.

Sirius sighed, shaking his head mournfully. "Houses and babies. We never should have let them get married."

*

Anika tapped her boots against the kerb, shivering in the wet and cold as she leaned against the lamppost and rubbing her hands up and down her upper arms in an attempt to stay warm. The rain drummed against her umbrella-less head, her hair in thick wet strings. The light, obstinately, refused to change, the red hand glaring at her through the droplets.

There was a loud thrumming from down the street, a rhythmic, mechanical purr. She turned; a motorcycle, shiny with chrome and care, was cutting up the street, splattering muddy water in every direction. Someone bent over the handle, clad in classic biker style, with a black leather jacket and bright silver studs. _It's going to splash me,_ she thought dismally, stepping slightly back.

To her surprise, the motorcycle pulled straight up to the kerb, next to her. With a jangle of silver and a leathery creak, the rider pulled off his helmet, shaking his long, untidy wet hair out like a soaking dog. He grinned at her, flashing bright white teeth; it was Sirius. "Bit wet, are we?"

She pointed meaningfully at the sky, low and grey, and said acidly, "Well spotted!"

"Want a ride?"

She shook her head, smiling faintly at him. "I'm all right. Thanks, though."

"Come on!" He scrubbed one pale hand through his hair, sending crystalline drops scattering in every direction, mingling with the rain. "You can't expect me to just leave you there, can you? Where are you headed?"

"It's only a couple of blocks. Lily and James's apartment. Lily left the bracelet James got her at my place; I just thought I'd return it."

"That's not a couple of blocks, that's more than a mile! What are you doing--in this weather? When you're not well?"

She kicked at a stone on the sidewalk. It rolled into a puddle with a dull plop and sank. "You _know_ I can't afford a broom."

He frowned. "Why don't you Apparate?"

She shrugged, uncomfortably. "Failed the test. Left my right foot in Sylphwood-on-Teifi."

Sirius hissed sharply. "Can't have been pleasant."

"It's not something I'd like to repeat." Anika shuddered, partly at the memory and partly from the cold. "Besides, walking keeps me in shape. And it really isn't far."

"I still feel bad, just leaving you standing there all wet and...bedraggled. If that's a word." He patted the seat of his motorcycle encouragingly. "Please?"

She eyed the vehicle distrustfully. "Look, Pads, it's not that I'm averse to flying deathtraps with hooker names or anything, but I'm really all right walking."

"Ani...I'm not going to leave you standing here." He swung one lanky leg over the side of the cycle, helmet cradled in the crook of one elbow. "I'll wheel the bike and just walk alongside you if you make me."

Anika almost laughed. "Don't..."

"Why not?" he asked playfully. "Here--" he shrugged out of the jacket and settled it around her shoulders. It was heavier than she expected and smelled like cinnamon and sandalwood and burning logs, delicious, warm smells that crept into her brain and settled there. "At least you won't freeze now."

She sneaked a glance at him, her gentle smile showing just the thinnest line of white teeth. "You can't really expect me to walk off with your jacket."

He leaned back against the motorcycle as though not even noticing the raindrops that splattered against his broad shoulders and made oily puddles in the street, and shrugged expressively. "It looks good on you."

"Sirius..."

"Look, Ani, if you _really_ feel bad about it, you could let me give you a ride."

She looked from Sirius to the bike, and then back to Sirius. Then she heaved a gloomy sigh, said "I'm going to regret this," and climbed onto the back of the motorcycle, straddling it rather uncomfortably.

"Lovely," said Sirius enthusiastically, tossing her a spare helmet that had previously dangled from the handlebars. He climbed in front of her, leaving her only his own muscular back to grip, and shot her a devil-may-care grin over his shoulder. "Hold on tight, now."

"If you make even the slightest movement towards crashing, I'm going to pull your hair out in clumps," said Anika sincerely. 

Sirius laughed, but tucked his hair under the helmet just in case, though he left the visor up. "Why so worried? How different is this from a broomstick?"

She put her own helmet on, then wrapped her arms around his chest, took a deep breath, and squeezed the seat desperately with her legs. "With you, Pads, even a broomstick can be a flying deathtrap."

"'S nice to know you trust me. Ready?" called Sirius, and before she had a chance to answer they shot off into the sky.

Anika let out a terrified squeak and buried her face between his shoulderblades, trying not to look at the long swath of street that suddenly spread out below her. The rain whipped against her face, beating against her lips. Sirius laughed at her, revving the bike into an even faster clip with one leather-gloved hand. They swerved dangerously to one side to avoid a poky old man on a broomstick, slipping to a nearly horizontal position as Anika shrieked and clutched Sirius even more tightly, if that was possible. As they tore off, she thought she heard someone yelling in a shrill, quavering voice, "Young hooligans!"

She tightened her grip--felt his heart beating under her fingers--and suddenly realized, with a jolt, how close they were, how much of him she was suddenly touching--and then she felt safe, protected...There was something about him, the shape of him under her palms, against her body, something strong and sure and proud and beautiful. He wouldn't let her fall, she knew...no matter what happened, they wouldn't fall.

It was as though he was sensing the same thing, at the same time--with one strong hand, he seized her wrist, crushing her hand almost violently to his lips and kissing it. Anika leaned against him, less clutching than simply resting, and smiled.

"There's Lily's place," yelled Sirius, against the driving wind. He made as if to touch down, but then--barely knowing what she was doing--Anika clambered to her knees, balancing precariously on the seat, and moved her hands to his shoulders, bending over to breathe into his ear, "Why stop now?"

He whipped his head around to her. "What are you doing? You're going to fall!"

"You won't let me. Let's keep riding," she said gently, leaning her chin against his shoulder. 

"Wh--where?" he managed, unable to concentrate, circling aimlessly, feeling her soft lips against his temple, her sweet breath in his ear.

"I don't know," she whispered, locking her arms around him. There was no better time, she thought dizzily, no better time or place or reason. "Your place or mine?"

_About damn time_, thought Lily happily, watching the motorcycle spin off into a straight course directly away from the apartment. James, standing next to her, wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She gripped it tightly, smiling at the sky. 

"I'm so glad," she said softly. "They'll take care of each other."

"Two halves," said James quietly, kissing her hair. "Anyone who can find their half is unimaginably lucky. One in ten thousand."

"Statistically," said Lily laughingly, "the odds are against us."

"To hell with the odds!" cried James dramatically, and pulled her closer.

*

Sirius's apartment was warm and comfortable, the curtains drawn, the rain pounding in a gentle rhythm against the windowpanes as he brought her inside and locked the door.

They stood there for a moment, simply watching one another, taking one another in.

_Is this what you want? _Anika asked herself, and Sirius, silently.

_I don't know. But I have to find out._

And then their lips were together and they were kissing softly, tentatively, almost unsure of what they were doing--but then they were more sure, their arms tightening around one another and the bare, silky press of skin-against-skin all of a sudden, and she smiled against his lips and he felt the odd curvature of her mouth and her hands, and she tasted herself on his breath and then they half-fell onto the bed, all hands and mouths and souls and sweet, aching longing somewhere deep inside, somehow resolved.

  
  


"I love what the rain does to your hair."

Anika almost laughed. "What, the frizz?"

"It isn't frizz." Sirius raised himself up on one elbow, the slanting moonlight illuminating the perfect lines of his shoulder muscles and collarbone. He made a vague sort of motion around his own head, trying to articulate the concept. "You shouldn't straighten it so much. It does all sorts of lovely curly foamy things. When I rule the world I shall make it rain every day, just so I can stare at your head." He ran his hand through the soft curls, feeling them tickle his palm. "It's like a halo, radiating around you, lighting up everything you touch."

"Do halos do that?" she laughed, gazing into his eyes.

"I don't know. Stop ruining everything!" He glared at her. "I like your hair, you goose. I love your hair."

"You shall have it then," said Anika dreamily, "when I die I shall have them make it into a beautiful wig and you can put it on your next lover's head and dream of me."

"When you die," said Sirius with more certainty than he felt, "I will be far too old for lovers. I will, in fact, be spooning up applesauce in an old folks' home, complaining about the how small the bingo cards are, listening to polka music, forgetting where I put my false teeth, and pinching the nurses." He drew her further into his arms, resting his hands against the warm silk of her back. "Either that or I'll be dead."

"You'll never die," said Anika distantly, staring pensively at the ceiling, watching the cracks run in rivers and patterns over the plaster. "Never. And you'd better not let me catch you pinching nurses."

He laughed and nudged her forehead gently with his own. "Go to sleep."

"Now is not the time for sleep!" she cried theatrically, and smothered his laughter with a pillow blow to the head and a hard, almost bruising kiss.

They did not sleep for some time.

She sighed, listening to the rhythm of his heart and his breathing, her chin pillowed on his chest, and watched him sleep. His midnight hair was strewn around his shoulders, one long arm flung over his head, his lips half-parted in slumber. Anika let her fingers whisper to his back, tracing the sharp shoulderblades, the tatoo of Canis Major just below his left shoulder. She smiled suddenly, teeth flashing in the moonlight, wanting the strong slope of arms to be around her again, wanting to feel the silk of his muscles against her, to smell the intoxicating him-scent that had filled her nostrils for what felt like hours but had been such a short time...

His eyelids fluttered as he heaved restlessly against her, the pale trace of veins that rose delicately above his long eyelashes blue in the half-light.

She realized, not for the first time, how beautiful he was; beautiful, rather than handsome, pale and moonlit as an angel, a god. _Your match_, she heard Sirius saying at the wedding. _Only one in a thousand has that sort of luck._ What had she done to be so lucky? 

Outside, the October moon rose, big as a Galleon, yellow and full.

*

Lily and James stood with their arms around one another, staring deep into the pool as the man with the dark cowl shading his face waded deep into the clear waters, holding the tiny bundle in his arms. The bundle kicked restlessly, squirming in the man's hands.

"The boy's name?" came the man's deep voice from the depths of the cloak.

"Harold James Potter," said Lily quietly. "Harry."

Sirius sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. Ceremonies, rituals, all these Big Important Moments in Life that he simply found nothing of value in...pompous, pretentious...but when Harry had been born, James and Lily had thought that if they were going to have a Muggle wedding, they wanted a real old-fashioned Wizard naming ceremony. Well, let them. He just wished he hadn't been forced to come...

_You're going to be a godfather,_ he reminded himself firmly. _Now would be a good time to start cherishing._

"Harry," repeated the man, and in a sudden swift movement ripped the cloth from the baby's body and dropped it onto the water where it floated like an oil slick. Struck with the sudden surprising brightness of the sun, Harry let out a short, sharp cry, his small fists kneading the air.

The druid placed one hand on the child's small forehead, tracing out a short rune--the element under whose influence the boy had been born, the mark of his name in the older languages.

son of the stag, star of the morning--

--life-in-death, breath-in-water--

And it was then that Anika felt it, like a sudden blow to the stomach--the now-familiar cold just behind her eyelids, the hungry eagerness of the water as it strained towards her in force, an enormous wave bearing down on the tiny boy who lay in the arms of the druid in the water.

Anika gasped, and instinctively her muscles went rigid, refusing to allow the River to crash through her body, from Death into life, and sweep the baby away--_What do you want with him?_ she screamed silently at it. _Why is he so important?_

The water swirled into her ears, pounding angrily, demanding to be allowed passage into life. 

_No!_ and she tensed her body even tighter, feeling her feet being hammered away from under her--until Harry had a guardian, a godfather, she had to hold the river back--

Sirius hardly even noticed that Anika had gone pale and stiff, or the odd blueness that was forming on the tips of her fingers--the druid was beckoning him into the water, intoning some sort of incomprehensible babble in a deep, solemn voice about being the Guardian of Harry's Soul and blah blah blah, lead him not into temptation, blah blah blah surrogate father blah blah Sirius Black _hooooold _the child that is now_ yoooooours_.

Sirius reached out numbly, eyes so intent on Harry that he did not see the way Anika let out a short, sharp gasp and slumped over with sudden release and relief, or the way Remus, concerned, grabbed her arm and supported her on his shoulder.

The baby gave Sirius a quizzical look and tilted his head to one side, making a little noise that sounded like "Mu?" He looked, Sirius realized with some alarm, exactly like a short, fat, crinkled James with green eyes.

"He's like a miniature you, Prongs," Sirius called irreverently across the water. "A little fawn, a little baby stag. I think I'll call him Spots."

The druid eyed him with evident disapproval, although all that could be seen of his face under the thick cowl was the thin line of his lips. "Please...respect the _sanctity_ of this moment..."

Sirius looked up and locked eyes with Remus, who stood impassively at the edge of the pond, Anika leaning against his shoulder.

Remus stared straight back at him, willing down the flash of jealousy that tingled down his spine. _He gets everything...it's always been about him, hasn't it? He was James's best man...he's Harry's godfather..._

_ He got Ani._

Remus chanced a look at the girl, who still leaned against him as though exhausted, the cold of her skin burning through his robes. She was still so tentative about contact, as though afraid she imposed somehow by leaning on him...she'd always been like that at school, so afraid to kiss him or touch him in public, as though she might embarrass him or inconvenience him...

He looked back up at Sirius, noticing the way his friend's violet eyes narrowed in bewilderment and confusion at his expression. He smiled, faintly, ironically, as Sirius turned away from him and waded back towards the Potters, still cradling Harry in his arms. The faint weight of Anika against his neck and side sustained him, just for that crucial moment...

_Just for a moment, she's mine. Just for this moment I can remember what it was to love her._

_ Just for this moment._

And then the moment was over, and Harry was back in his parents' arms, and Sirius was turning back towards them, rushing to Anika, face furrowed with worry. Remus relinquished her effortlessly to Sirius, who immediately was holding her in those strong, slender arms as though he could protect her--as though he could dare! Remus had felt the cold of her skin, the cold that had washed through her ever since Jill had died, a cold that would never, ever be gone--and she was murmuring _I'm fine, honestly, don't worry..._

But the moment was over.

Harry cried out, softly, and Lily pulled him closer to her breast, whispering to him.

*

Sirius, feeling very out of place, adjusted his well-worn leather jacket and shifted from foot to foot, ignoring the pointedly incredulous glares of the society witches in their mink\ robes and stiletto heels, the rich wizards' butlers in suits and gold watches.

"May I help you?" inquired the jeweler, raising one eyebrow as he took in Sirius's shabby appearance, in particular the jacket and boots.

"Er, yeah," said Sirius, sidling forward to eye the glass case. "I wanted an engagement ring."

"Any...particular design in mind, Monsieur?" The "Monsieur" was decidedly snide, Sirius realized, but ignored it. 

"There was one I saw the other day, in the window...silver, it was. With a black opal set in the center. There was a sort of...twining...thingy round the opal. Yeah, a twiny sort of design." He made a spiraling motion with one finger to illustrate it. "Have you got that?"

"A black opal--a true black opal--is hardly within the _means_ of most young men of your...er...stature, Monsieur," said the jeweler coldly, wrinkling his bulbous nose. "Perhaps a small garnet..."

"I don't want a garnet," said Sirius indignantly, "if I'd wanted a garnet I would have said garnet, wouldn't I? I said _opal_, couldn't you hear me?"

"Certainly," said the jeweler, with a supercilious little quirk of his ratty moustache. "Does Monsieur realize that the ring he has selected is a work of art entitled _Northern Lights_, an original Circe studio piece, and is going to cost him" --the man leaned forward over the glass counter for emphasis "--over _three thousand Galleons?_"

Sirius nearly fell over, but somehow managed to keep his composure. "I said that was the ring I wanted and it is," he said with a good deal of dignity. _There goes all of Mum's inheritance that I've saved up for twelve years, _he added silently, with a mental groan. 

_But it's just the sort of thing she'd want me to spend it on. _"I can pay, I'm not penniless, and I'd like to see the ring."

The jeweler shrugged, obviously skeptical. "Monsieur will understand if I ask to--er--see some sort of proof of income?"

Sirius, sighing inwardly, pulled the leather pouch out of his jacket and upended it over the counter. Over thirty hundred-Galleon coins spilled out of it, clanging across the counter to spin to a halt on its edges or sloughing into a pile at the center of the glass. The jeweler gaped. The society witches and wizards stopped muttering unpleasantly to stare in shock.

"Three thousand, four hundred Galleons, that is," said Sirius wearily. "Is that enough?"

"The ring costs three thousand seven hundred," managed the jeweler, regaining his control.

"I'm not going to pay that much. Three thousand four hundred."

"Five."

"Four, and that's final. It's more than the thing's worth anyway."

The jeweler sighed as if he had been personally injured. "I'll go out of business."

"What a pity," said Sirius nastily, and as an afterthought "Put it in a nice box, please. You know, one of the posh little black ones, with velvet on it and all."

One of the mink-robed witches nearly fainted.

*

Sirius closed his eyes, trying to take deep, calming breaths but only succeeding in inducing a sort of panicked hyperventilation. _This isn't so hard. This isn't so hard._ Across from him, Anika--apparently unaware of his discomfort--pushed her plate aside, smiling into his eyes.

He gulped, fingers clutching convulsively at the tiny velvet box in his pocket.

"Dessert?" asked Anika lightly.

"Er--no, thanks, I'm" Will you marry me? "full."

"All right, then." Short pause. "What is it? You look like there's something you're trying to say."

"Hmm? Oh, no," Will you please marry me and spend the rest of your life with me oh please? "just thinking. Do you want to go outside for a walk?"

"Sure." She stood up, dropping her napkin into her chair and waving her wand at the dishes, which flew promptly into the sink and began briskly scrubbing themselves.

They stepped out into the night, which was soft and warm, full of fireflies and the song of cricket and nightingale...the moon hovered above them, a crescent slit in the blueblack sky, and the street was empty and smelled of April.

Anika nestled into his shoulder, slipping an arm companionably about his neck. "Nice night."

He closed his eyes, inhaling the smell of her that always calmed him down, its salty sweetness mixing with the scent of the fresh grass that pervaded the street. 

They paused under one of the willows, near the path that led to Hogwarts, and Sirius suddenly pulled her to a halt, taking a moment to take in the drip of moonlight across her sharply pointed face and liquid hair. He took a very deep breath.

"Ani, I know this might not seem like the time or the place--I mean, it's all very funny and confused and I've tried to plan it out but it doesn't make sense, I wanted to have it happen in June or on the beach or somewhere perfect, you know, but I couldn't wait that long and everyone kept telling me so even though I wouldn't listen--and I know it sounds crazy, even though I thought this all out; I had a whole speech planned that I was going to give you, but then I opened my mouth to say it to you and this came out instead. And I _know_ I'm full of shit and sentiment, but I never thought I'd have to do this so I never took the time to decide what I was going to say and then you were different from any girl I'd ever known and I didn't even know what was happening but I had to--" he fumbled for the ring in his pocket and somehow managed to get it out-- "More than anything else I want forever with you, Ani, as much as I can say forever exists--and I don't really know if it does, but I want it with you no matter what...not just a year, or three or four, not that kind of forever--and not even twenty or fifty years forever, not just a lifetime forever, it wouldn't be enough, Ani, I mean _real _forever. Not even till death do us part, I need more than that from you. Oh God, I love you so much that it hurts, I never knew that happened outside of books--but you're so beautiful, and so sweet and kind and you're funny and you're brave and clever and even wise--but that's not why. I wanted to--I needed to know--Anika, will you marry me?" And he shoved the ring at her, mentally screaming and beating himself over the head. _You absolute idiot! Can't you talk? Can't you fucking _talk_?!_

"Oh yes," whispered Anika, her face alight with happiness, her eyes like twin silver moons. "_Yes_," and then she was kissing him and there were stars exploding behind his eyelids and the moon was tangled in her hair, the fireflies hiding behind her eyes and she was so incomprehensibly beautiful and he loved her more than life. Before he knew what was happening his hands were all over her and she was breathing him in, her fingertips cool half-moons against his shoulders and somewhere there was the most beautiful music, and everywhere smelled like roses and jasmine and rain.

Sirius was happy.

Anika burst into Lily's office, glowing with happiness and pride and each step a sort of floaty little dance. "Lily! Oh, Lily! The most incredible thing...the most wonderful..."

"Ooh, what?" asked Lily keenly, hoisting the slumbering Harry onto her hip. 

Anika was nearly crying. "Sirius asked me to marry him. And I said yes. And we're going to get _married!_" 

Lily burst out into laughter as her friend rushed into her arms. "I knew it! Ani, I'm just _so _happy for you...I knew it was going to happen soon...I'm so glad..."

"It....it's everything I ever wanted...Lily, I can't even..." She pulled back and displayed the magnificent ring, eyes alight with pride. "Look...it's a real black opal."

"Oh, it's _lovely_," said Lily enviously, running her soft fingers over the stone and the delicate ivy pattern that enclosed it.

"Lil, I'm so happy I can't even think..." and she fell back into the red-haired woman's arms, tears prickling at her eyes.

"I know," whispered Lily, almost crying herself at Anika's overwhelming joy. "How d'you think I felt when James asked me? And it's about time," she added acerbically, "Padfoot's taken long enough about it. He just doesn't know when he should grab onto something."

"Idiot," sniffed Anika into Lily's shoulder.

"I know," giggled Lily, settling her friend into the chair in front of the desk and adopting a businesslike air. "Now tell me all about it. What did he say? Where? What was it like?"

James and Sirius sat at the edge of the broken bridge over Raven Creek in companionable silence, dangling their legs over the rushing water and watching the sun rise. Sirius dropped a pebble into the river, the soft splash interrupting their peaceful quiet.

"Asked Ani to marry me yesterday," he said in conversational tones. "Said yes."

"Good," said James equably, chewing on a blade of grass.

Sirius leaned back on his elbows with a leathery creak. "You'll be best man, of course?"

"Sure." James picked up another pebble and hurled it into the water. He slung one arm around his friend's broad shoulders and grinned out at the sky. "A word of advice?"

"Go ahead."

"Let her plan it. Don't argue with her. Don't _ever_ argue with her--let her dress the bridesmaids in pink cellophane if she wants to. Trust me, it'll be much nicer for all concerned."

"All right," said Sirius, rather mystified.

There was a pause. A kingfisher swooped over the creek beneath them.

"Did you see the Wasps game the other day?" asked James at length.

Sirius groaned and rolled his eyes. "Bloody awful. That Bagman...man's got no _style_. No _finesse_. Just whack, whack, whack. Now Armand Patil--that man's a _quality_ Beater. Aim, that's what matters."

"Nonsense!" said James indignantly. "Aim's all very well, but what about power? You can't pretend a Beater doesn't need a strong arm. Patil's got no stamina, that's what's wrong with him."

"My money for best player, though, is that Ivan Wronski--have you seen the man? A genius, an absolute genius. Now, that match last week..."

*

Babysitting Harry was the easiest gig Anika had ever had--mostly because Sirius insisted on doing all the work. At the moment, he was engaged in teasing the boy with a dog biscuit--the one treat their young charge could not resist.

"Should you be feeding him dog biscuits, Si?" asked Anika worriedly, as Harry dribbled frantically and grasped at the treat, calling out plaintively for it.

"He's not eating it, is he?" Sirius pointed out logically. "No harm in wiggling it in front of his face."

She watched them play for a minute, until Harry made a dangerously close attempt to catch the biscuit and, in an attempt to keep it from him, Sirius stuffed it into his own mouth.

Anika stared at him, horrified. "Sirius! Did you just eat a dog biscuit?"

Sirius shook his head innocently, his crumb-covered mouth and chin betraying his guilt.

"You're awful! God forbid you should ever be a father--imagine how you'll corrupt your children!"

Sirius swallowed whatever dog biscuit remained in his mouth and pointed quickly to Harry, eyes still wide and innocent. "Look at him! He's happy! He's giggling!"

"Only because he likes it when I yell at you," said Anika grumpily, but subsided and watched them for a moment more, as this time the game did not involve dog biscuits--rather, insubstantial leaves from Sirius's wand that drifted over the room, sending Harry crawling as fast as he could after them.

"Did you hear about the McKinnons?" asked Sirius softly, eyes still on Harry. "Voldemort found them. Someone told him their codenames, and he came straight into their office...just like he did for Remus. Killed them, and hung their bodies up on the walls...as a warning..."

Anika's face went white, and she bit her lip painfully. "It's sick...it's like what happened to my father's team, it's all for fun...because the elemental likes it, because it feeds off it, because it's _fun._"

Sirius stared with unseeing eyes at Harry, now busily engaged in attempting to chew off his own foot. "And they won't be the last ones. It's happening everywhere, now. Muggles, too...dying off in droves, then showing up later...all in pieces...even kids, Ani, this is happening to kids. And there's nothing we can do about it," he added in a moment of sudden rage, "nothing!"

"I know," said Anika softly, watching Harry scrabble for one bright leaf and fall flat on his rear. After a short pause, she went on, "I don't want him to grow up in a world like this, Si. Why should he have to...and there's nothing we can do, nothing...it isn't going to stop. The serums are getting nowhere, and we've only gotten through the first three rune verses...what good is that? Sometimes it feels like it's really over, Sirius." 

He stared at her in shock...Anika, this hopeless? The expression on her face made something in his chest throb painfully, and he wanted so badly to hold her, to comfort her, to tell her it would be all right...

But he couldn't be sure it would be. 

Sirius snatched at Harry, with almost violent affection, and hefted the infant onto his hip, joggling the baby comfortably up and down and blowing into his thick hair. Harry crowed happily, grabbing at a long strip of Sirius's hair and yanking it energetically. "Yowch!" yelped Sirius, trying to detach Harry's strong little fingers. "Dear God, Spots, what _has_ Prongs been feeding you?"

Anika smiled a little, quickly taking Harry from his godfather's arms and tickling the tiny red paw until Harry, giggling uncontrollably, released Sirius's hair and rolled into Anika's arms, grabbing at her own silky locks. 

"Oh no," said Anika with a laugh, shaking her hair behind her shoulders where Harry couldn't get at it. "Oh no."

"Tickoos!" demanded Harry petulantly, making expressive grabbing motions with his crinkled fingers. "Anteenie tickoo."

Anika leaned over her godson, frowning deeply at him. "You don't really want tickoos, do you?"

"Tickoos!" said Harry again, more emphatically, pounding his fist against Anika's shoulder for emphasis. "Tickoo _ow_."

"All right, you asked for it," said Anika in a mock-growly voice, and dumped the boy on the couch, lunging at him with greedy, grabbing fingers. "_Raar!_"

"Noooooo!" shrieked Harry, kicking and squirming in ecstasy as Anika grabbed him around the protruding stomach and tickled him mercilessly.

"He likes you more than he likes me," said Sirius rather ruefully.

"Don't be silly, he just likes being tickled," said Anika briskly, flipping her hair back over her shoulders as she heaved the still-giggling Harry onto her shoulder. He laid his soft head against her neck, popping his thumb into his mouth like a cork, and his bright green eyes flicked drowsily over the room as he grew silent.

"Auntie Ani. Anteenie. Can I please call you Anteenie?" asked Sirius wistfully.

"_No_," said Anika firmly. 

"Good doggie," said Harry sleepily, from Anika's shoulder. "Pazzie good doggie."

"Pazzie has a smudge on his nose," said Anika, stroking Harry's back. 

Sirius frowned and went slightly cross-eyed searching for the culprit.

Harry giggled softly. "Pazzie bad?"

"This is Anteenie's only rule," said Anika. "No smudges. Pazzie go doghouse straightaway unless he washes his face. Bad Pazzie."

"Washoo face," said Harry earnestly, raising his head from Anika's shoulder to stare imploringly at Sirius. "Anteeenie _mad_."

Anika made a face at the top of the child's head. "Anteenie not very mad." And aside, to Sirius: "He's _smart,_ isn't he? Listen to him, talking away..."

Sirius nodded fervently.

"Mad," said Harry gravely, "less Pazzie washoo face."

Sirius watched her from the other side of the room, grinning uncontrollably. She looked good with a baby, he thought suddenly; the way her hair waterfalled over the top of her head as she bent over the tiny body, the way her freckles crinkled into her dimples when she smiled, the way her eyes lit up whenever she looked Harry's way. He suddenly found himself picturing her holding another baby instead of Harry, a baby with his mouth and her eyes, and a thatch of ebony hair. 

"I'm going to go put him to B-E-D," whispered Anika to Sirius, who nodded, still smiling, and watched them as they headed up the stairs to Harry's room.

"Pazzie pazzie pazzie pazzie," sang Harry to himself, nodding his head back and forth on Anika's shoulder. "Pazzie pazzie pazzie pazzie."

"Hush, Harry, sleepytime," whispered Anika, kissing Harry on top of the head.

"Mama," commanded Harry imperiously, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the enormous yawn that popped up at the same time as the word. "Want Mama."

"Mama's not here," explained Anika, bumping the door of the nursery open with one hip and muttering "Illuminatia!" at the lights.

"Where?" asked Harry fretfully, tossing a bit in her arms.

"She's with Papa," said Anika gently, placing the baby in his crib and patting the downy head with one hand. "They went to go have food together." Put that way, it sounded so stupid. "They'll be back soon. Go to sleep, now."

"No," protested Harry, another huge yawn obscuring the word. "Not..."

"_Yes_," and Anika pulled the soft blue blanket over her godson's shoulders and tucked it in under him. "Now _hush_." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the ceiling, muttering something, and suddenly the room was filled with insubstantial butterflies in rainbow hues, flickering over the walls and bed, and a soft, bell-like music filled the room. "Goodnight, now." She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, but he was already almost asleep and hardly even made the effort to snatch at her hair.

And then she turned, intending to shut the door and tiptoe out, and found Sirius leaning against the doorframe. Without a word, he put his arms around her and she rested against his chest, her head under his chin, watching the butterflies dip and spin over Harry's dark crib.

Sirius reached out and closed the door, stepping back and bringing Anika with him, and she turned in so that she was facing him, slipping her arms around his neck. He pulled her closer, resting his hands at the small of her back and burying his face in her hair and they stood that way in the corridor, hanging desperately onto that tiny enclosure of happiness and serenity in a world going rapidly mad, for a very long time.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	11. Sunset

that's right, it's...*drumroll please* the LAST PART! *short pause* okay, enough rejoicing. down to business.

you guys, this is so exciting! 31 reviews on the last part--that's the most reviews i've ever gotten on *anything.* it makes me so very very happy. hokay, so virtual cookies to all of the following people:

Olive Green, Meredith (um...depends on whether anyone wants me to do a sequel. *hint hint hint* *grin* if so, then the next part will jump straight to that time period...yeah.) Thena, Shakira, stinkerbell (gah! there's another part of dark days that authoralert didn't tell me about?!?!? I HATE AUTHORALERT! it makes me want to throw things! but then stinkerbell makes me all happy again so i don't throw things. hooray for stinky stinky, saving the world once again! and yes, i'm plugging *dark days are coming* without mercy. all of you go read it NOW.) SyberKat (and anyone else who's looking for part VII....there's something truly bizarre going on, cos it's right here: http://www.fanfiction.net/master.cfm?action=story-read&storyid=87145. and it's under the name rave. but it's not in my profile. that is most odd.) soz (i want the china doll sequel, sozzie! then again, knowing my temperamental authoralert, it's probably already up. grr.) everlastingwhy, voicelady, hermione gulliver, al (genius! al=genius! when you're done reading "dark days are coming" go read "dracaena draco." OR ELSE.) Aylihael, kali ma, jenn, arabella figg, carole (eep! carole reads my stories? *is rather starstruck* oh, and if i was still trying to write the same Anika that i began the story with, i'd be very close to killing her off. i'm glad she got better.) viola, hyphen (i wish i could say i was being subtly funny, but i fear i was just being flowery. *sigh* er...well. *cough* we'll forget my melodramatic tendencies for the moment, not that they won't show up in force in this chapter) donutgirl, yay, eve6, molly, auntie cassie, amanita lestrange, peeves_is_peeved (widgoo babywoo...), flourish (carole, hyphen, cassandra claire AND flourish?! *is EXTREMELY starstruck* ) beth, julie weasley, simon (i'm sorry! i swear, no more calling sirius "si." i went through this whole chapter and checked, just for you) sherry (of course you're not a valley girl!) and *deep breath* elise!

phewf! *wipes brow* that was really, really long. Special thanks to cassandra claire, for being marvelous.

i don't own nothin'. except sirius, of course. er--anika, i mean. heh. *blushes* Freudian slip....also sirius is a potty mouth in this part. (scandal!) now you know.

does anyone else think "high and dry" by radiohead is the most perfect Sirius theme song ever written? if i weren't so violently opposed to writing songfics, i'd write one for that. anyone who's good at songfics want to take a stab at it?

gah! i've got to stop talking, NOW. 

-rave

* * *

Bryter Layter--Part Ten

Sunset 

* * *

Voldemort's tongue flicked out over his teeth like a cat's, testing the air, tasting the direction of the wind. It was a good day, he thought with a feral smile; the wind was from Gorias in the east, his strength was at its peak, and Wormtail's information meant the beginning of a new day for his quest...the end of two of his worst enemies...

He surveyed the masked circle of Death Eaters that surrounded him, watching impassively. They would have something to watch, he thought. Yes, they would certainly have something to watch.

"Snape!" he called, gripping the mark on his wrist tightly with one bone-white hand.

There was a quick rustle, a shuffle of cloaks, and the dark young man stepped into the center of the clearing, quickly sweeping a low bow. "My Lord? You summoned me?"

"Snape," whispered Voldemort slowly, seizing his servant's arm tightly, fingers probing the black brand on the forearm. Snape gasped in pain, trying to pull away, but the Dark Lord's grip merely tightened until the tattoo began to smoke, sizzle, writhe under his fingertips--

He ripped his hand away, smiling gently at his servant. Blood trickled down Snape's chin; he'd bitten through his lip in an effort not to cry out. Good. 

"Severus, you haven't done very well," whispered Voldemort, in the condescending scold of a preschool teacher to an unruly child. "Honestly, I expected better."

"My Lord--I don't understand--" The boy's desperate black eyes darted to the circle of wizards around him, but they made to move to help. He stared back at Voldemort, the panic, the submission growing slowly in his slack face...

"Of course you don't," hissed Voldemort, and in a sudden movement hurled Severus to the ground, where he lay staring up at his master in utter terror. "But you've let yourself become expendable. Silly of you, really..."

The boy tried to scramble away, babbling, "I'm so sorry, Milord...I never..."

Voldemort's fingers dug suddenly into Severus's forehead, shoving his head back so hard on his neck that there was an audible crack, staring straight into his servant's eyes and dragging him to his knees. "Do you recognize the names 'James and Lily Potter,' Severus?"

Severus's face twitched in confusion and panic. "We were at school together..."

"Perhaps," hissed Voldemort, "you know them better as 'Romeo and Juliet.'"

Comprehension dawned in Severus's black eyes, and with it an ever-greater fear. "What..."

"Expendable, my dear Severus," and Voldemort blinked, slowly and deliberately, the feline narrowing-of-eyes that signaled the doom of some unfortunate small creature.

"No," moaned Severus, and the Dark Lord licked his lips again, breathing in the sweet reek of fear that filled the air.

He raised his wand.

*

Dumbledore was sorting papers in his office when there was a crack like lightning and the air in his office rearranged itself, sending papers swirling off the desk as Severus employed his personal privilege of Apparition within the wards of Hogwarts.

"He knows," gasped Severus, doubled over on the desk.

Dumbledore was on his feet in an instant. "Severus? What do you mean?"

"He knows," repeated Severus, clutching at his heaving chest. He'd never realized how painful it was to breathe, how much effort his lungs put into the simple motion of contraction and relaxation. He coughed, and pulled a hand away from his mouth to see the stain of red that had blossomed there. "Someone--I don't know who--told him who the codenames stood for. He already knew most all of them anyway, but now he knows about the Potters, and you know they were the ones he wanted the most. Dumbledore, there's someone besides me working for him--"

"Severus," and Dumbledore's voice was sharp, "what did he do to you?"

"Angry," mumbled Severus, "cos this person gave him the names before I did. Used the Cruciatus curse on me. He's going to go after them--you've got to keep them moving around--I don't know where he's going to strike--"

"You've done very well, Severus. _Stupefy_," said Dumbledore grimly, and Severus collapsed into a boneless heap on the ground, his pain quieted. 

The ancient wizard stood up and strode to the fire, snatching a handful of black powder from the jar on the desk and tossing it into the flames. "Poppy!"

The Healer's figure appeared and grew in the blaze, spinning faster and faster as it grew until suddenly Madame Pomfrey herself stepped out of the fire, brushing dirt from her spotless, rosy robes. "What is it, Albus?"

"Take Severus up to the hospital wing, Poppy, he's been hit with Cruciatus." The woman's face went pale, but she didn't stop to ask questions; she hoisted the young man into her arms and stepped back into the still-pink fire, whirling back to the hospital.

The headmaster stood a moment in thought and then, striding back to the desk, seized another handful of powder, flung it onto the fire, and called out "Romeo! Juliet! I need you down here, now!"

"Right," said Lily's brisk, competent voice, and a moment later the two of them were climbing out of the flames, barely even ruffled by the journey. "Sir?"

"I've received word...Voldemort's onto you. Someone's told him your codenames." Dumbledore's face softened, watching the way Lily's hands tightened on the hem of her work robes, the way James's eyes hardened resolutely behind his glasses. "I want you to go into hiding."

James gasped in shock; Lily looked horrified. "Albus, you can't be suggesting we should _run_ from Voldemort?"

"I know you want to fight him, James." Dumbledore heaved a sigh. "I understand it. But think of Harry...think of his safety...and you've got to go _soon_." He stared straight at Lily; the woman looked away, shaking her magnificent crimson head in resignation. "I know, Albus, I know. Above all, I don't want Harry to be in danger..."

"But we can't hide from him." James's eyes glittered, intense and worried. He looked nearly ten years older than he was; but then, Dumbledore thought sadly, James had looked old ever since Harry's birth, fatherhood bringing out a maturity and dignity in him that had always been there but had never been shown before. "There's nowhere we can hide from him."

"There is." Dumbledore ran his hands through his hair, closing his eyes. "The Fidelius charm. It's the best chance you two have...but I'm almost afraid to use it..."

"But--"

"Why--"

"Because someone close to you--very close--is leaking information to the Dark Lord, and the charm requires absolute trust...whomever you choose as Secret-Keeper could be the one..."

"Call Sirius." James's voice was low, resolute, and decided.

"James..."

"Call him." There was a bitter, commanding edge to James's voice. 

Dumbledore locked eyes with his former student. "It would perhaps be safer if I were your secret-keeper."

Lily shook her head, taking over the conversation from her husband. "We can't put you in danger, Dumbledore. That's a risk that's too much to take."

There was a very long pause. James's determined brown eyes bored into Dumbledore's light blue ones, and then suddenly Dumbledore sighed again and ripped his glasses off, tossing them to the desk in disgust. "Very well. Your choice." He reached for the pot of powder on the desk, snatching out a pinch of the black powder, and got up to throw it into the flames. "Mercutio! A word with you!"

"And but one word with me?" Sirius's darkly amused voice echoed out of the fireplace a moment before his tall form appeared revolving in it, and a bare second later he was strolling out of the flames, hands in the pockets of his robes, to lean nonchalantly against the fireplace. "Couple it with something, Albus; make it a word and a blow."

"Voldemort knows James and Lily's codenames," said Dumbledore shortly, turning his back to Sirius to walk slowly back to his desk. "I have informed them that the Fidelius charm is their best chance. They wish you to be their Secret-Keeper."

Sirius went very white; he stared at James and Lily, who watched him mutely, and then back at Dumbledore. "Secret-Keeper....me?"

Dumbledore nodded grimly. "I will leave you three to discuss this...there is a patient in the infirmary that I should check on." He stepped out of the office, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Sirius collapsed very suddenly into the chair by the fireplace, staring at his best friends. "You want _me_...but..."

"Dumbledore says someone close to us is passing information to Voldemort," said Lily softly. "The Fidelius charm is a huge responsibility, Sirius, but we trust you...we know..."

"But..." Sirius's throat was dry, and suddenly his voice broke and he buried his head in his hands, shaking it. "I can't, Prongs...What if I told him?"

"You'd never tell him," said James quietly, the force of his trust radiating into his words.

Sirius stared up at his friend, dark eyes haunted and twisted. "What if he threatened Ani?"

"What if he's allied with Ani?" and James's voice was bitter, angry. "I don't want to believe that any of my friends could ever--_ever--_turn to Voldemort, but someone has. I trust you with my life, Padfoot, and even more I trust you with Lily's. And Harry's. _Please._"

"And you can't tell Ani," said Lily, pain pervading her voice. "You can't tell anyone."

Sirius looked away from them, and James realized that he looked suddenly old, that there were lines around his eyes and mouth...

"Let me think about it," said Sirius in a leaden, hollow voice like an old, old man's. "Give me a little time."

"We have to do it _soon_," said James, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice.

Something crossed Sirius's face that even James could not interpret. Almost inaudibly, he whispered, "All right. All right."

Lily straightened, trying to stay businesslike. "Tomorrow night, then."

"Tomorrow?" hissed Sirius, disbelieving. "How can we possibly be ready by--"

"We will be," said James resolutely, scrubbing one hand through his thick hair, feeling so tired...so tired..."We'll have to be."

*

At seven o'clock, Sirius burst into the tiny house in Godric's Hollow, wild and disheveled. "You can't use me. You can't."

Lily and James were on their feet in an instant, Harry squalling unhappily at having any attention be diverted from him. "Pads, have you gone off your conk? Who else would we use?"

"Wormtail," gasped out Sirius. "It's perfect. It's the only thing...the only way...He hasn't got anyone, a lover or anyone, to be a weakness. Ani's mine, Prongs, you know that. I'm helpless if it comes to putting her in danger. If there's one thing Peter's good at, it's hiding...if you use Peter and then let him go into hiding...I'll tell Ani it's me." He ripped the words out of a throat thick with guilt and pain, trying to keep his voice expressionless. "You tell...tell Moony it's me, also. One of them has to be the spy, and it's the perfect way to feed out false information...Voldemort will come after me...you'll be safe. Please, Prongs, you've got to do this."

"Sirius, why--"

"I can't choose between you and Anika, James." Sirius hung his head, the effort of convincing them spent. "You know I can't. This is the safest way...for you, Lily, Harry..."

Anger asserted itself in James' features. "Sirius, you can't go jerking us around like this! We had a plan, you can't just change everything at the last--we have to start in two hours--"

"You've got to change it," snapped Sirius. "This is _too important_."

James swore, and smacked the wall with his fist. "Damnit, Sirius! Who the fuck gave you permission to mess everything up?"

"Me?" Sirius burst out. "Why? Because I don't want you to die? Fuck you, James!"

"I'll handle _that_, thank you," said Lily coldly. "Honestly, both of you. James, Sirius is trying to help. Sirius, James is trying not to kill you. So calm down. I understand your point, Padfoot--James, I think I agree with him...it is true, it's a better bluff--Sirius is the first person Voldemort will go after."

James swore again, but rather more quietly. "All right. Fuck. All right."

"Good," said Sirius, and suddenly sighed. "I guess Ani and I will have to go into hiding soon." 

James nodded.

"Then--" and Sirius suddenly lunged forward and hugged his friend tightly, feeling tears prick like white-hot needles at the backs of his eyes. He turned to Lily, still forcing back tears at the sight of her, small and strong, and the tiny baby who lay in her arms, glaring at him. He embraced her, rather awkwardly due to the way Harry came between them, and stroked his godson's head.

He looked back up at James. "Call Peter."

James nodded, mutely.

Sirius made a curt, final motion with his head and turned, yanking his jacket over his shoulders, to the door. He didn't look back as he climbed onto Rae, kicking the motorcycle into the dark, cold night, away from the comforting glow of the cottage and the warm baby-smell of its rooms.

*

Somehow, Sirius managed to get the bike and himself home without crashing into something or falling off. It was torture to walk up the stairs toward the apartment, knowing what would meet him...

The door flew open, and he was faced with her glowing face, her swirl of raven hair...

"I ordered all the bridesmaid dresses," she said happily, kissing him on the cheek as he entered, rubbing her smooth cheek against his rough-shaven one. "Come and see."

_And what have you seen today, Anika? What secrets could have you learned, and told? Is it possible that you...that you...._

Sirius dragged himself into the kitchen. "I warn you, Ani, it's been a long day, so forgive me if I act like an absolute prick."

"Oh, it's all right. This'll cheer you up..." She was rummaging in a large packing box, pulling out wads of tissue paper, and finally pulled out a long, silky confection in light purple. "What do you think?"

He stared at it, taking in the bizarre, crisscrossing straps and flaring skirt. It looked weirdly asymmetrical. He couldn't picture it at his wedding, and certainly not on six threatening females. "I don't like it."

Her face fell. "But why not? It's the only color that suits all the bridesmaids, and anyway it isn't really your business."

"Look, it's my wedding too!"

"I know, but you said you didn't want to muck about with dresses and things, so I thought I'd..."

"Well, you could at least have asked me--"

"Why?! You don't know the first thing about dresses!"

"It's not just the dresses! First you sent out all the invitations without asking me--"

"I _did_ ask you! Anyway, Sirius, if I wanted any shit from you I'd just squeeze your head."

"That's so immature, and anyway you _didn't_ ask me! And you sent them to all those insufferable uncles of yours, and you know I wanted it to be a small wedding!"

"I got them back before anyone even _received_ them, didn't I? Sent out seventy retriever owls! Cost me a fortune!"

He made an exasperated motion with his hands. "That's not the point!"

Her eyes started to sting with anger and repressed tears. "Well, what is the point, then?"

"That you should stop trying to control everything! You act like _you're_ the only one making a giant commitment here--"

"Look, Sirius Black," and she sprung to her feet, breathing heavily, smoldering, "you told me you didn't want to get too involved in this 'arrangement stuff,' that's exactly what you said, so why shouldn't _I_ arrange things? It's not like you've been exactly panting to help me--when you haven't been a thousand miles away on _business_, you've been trying to get into my robes! It doesn't really help me plan things!" 

"I am _not_ some--some kind of--of absentee _sex_ _maniac_!" This was getting out of hand. All he'd said was that he didn't like the dresses--she was being ridiculous--"It's a job, do you want to starve in the streets?!" _Do you think I _like being_ away from you? Do you think it doesn't kill me inside?_ he almost said, but bit down hard on the words. 

"I support _myself!_"

"Anyway, you've not been exactly the loving fiancée when I _was _here, O Ice Queen Maxime--"

"This whole goddamn engagement was a _huge_ mistake!"

"Damn straight! I can't understand why the fuck I asked you in the first place!" He, too, was on his feet, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"I hate you!"

"Well, I hate you too!"

"Fine!" bawled Anika furiously, her face red and hot. She hurled one hand, trembling with rage, towards the door. "Just get out!"

"Fine!" Sirius yelled back, clenching his fists and nearly spitting with temper. "I'm going!"

"Good! Go on!"

"Manipulative bitch!"

"Self-absorbed pig!"

"Weepy, controlling--"

"Conceited, arrogant--"

"I'm leaving!"

"Then _go!_"

"I will!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"_Fine_!"

"And _don't come back!_"

"I'm _not going to!_"

Slam. Stomp stomp stomp. 

"Who needs you anyway?" Anika screamed at the closed door, hurling a vase in its general direction. The china splintered with a satisfying crash; one sharp piece nearly flew into her face. She shrieked something at the door, not even a word, just something that sounded obscene, and kicked a chair. 

Outside, in the hallway, he strode, seething, out into the cold October night and sat in front of the building, fumbling for a cigarette in his pockets. _In just a minute, she'll be running out here to apologize. And I'll say 'I just need to be alone, _thanks_,' very pointedly and get on my motorcycle and exit beautifully. And then I'll drop my cigarette at her feet so she'll know it's all her fault I've started again._

There wasn't even a pack of smokes in his pockets--only tissues and a couple of peppermints. She'd probably gone through all his clothes and trashed his tobacco--interfering bitch!--and he hadn't even had the sense to pick up his wallet when he stormed out. He swore under his breath and kicked a passing dog, taking malicious pleasure in hearing it yelp.

Upstairs, Anika planted herself on the sofa, having bolted the door firmly and torn all the photographs of him down from the fridge. _Any minute now, he'll come running up and bang on the door to apologize and I won't even answer. And then I'll sniff, very pointedly, so he can hear it and he'll know he made me cry_. 

She stared at the ceiling for several minutes, then rolled over and buried her face in the couch, fuming. _Ice queen, indeed,_ she thought fiercely, punching a pillow. _Asshole._

The clock ticked.

The door did not open.

She fiddled absently with the black opal ring on her finger and thought dark thoughts.

Outside, Sirius was getting very cold. He hopped awkwardly from foot to foot, longing to just get on Rae and ride away, but unwilling to miss the inevitable apology. His fingers itched for a smoke for the first time in weeks, but he quelled the urge, hand straying instead to the gold band around his ring finger. 

_ Soon enough, she'll come out._

_ Soon enough, he'll come up here._

*

At midnight, Anika opened the door to go downstairs at the exact same time that Sirius had been raising one hand to knock humbly for admission. 

They stared at each other for a few moments, then looked at the floor, then looked back up again. 

"Sorry."

There was a short pause. It was a good pause. 

"Come help me pick up these photographs?" asked Anika, smiling weakly.

"All right," he said, but made no movement towards the door. "Ani, I wanted to tell you why I was...you know..."

She regarded him silently.

He let out an explosive sigh, closing his eyes. "Voldemort's learned Lily and James's codenames."

Anika went chalk-white. "What? How?"

"Someone told him. Someone close to the Potters." He stared straight into her eyes, trying to force a reaction, but their stormy gray depths told him nothing. "Dumbledore told them to use the Fidelius charm."

_You're going to betray her the instant you say those next words. Don't say them, Sirius, please don't say them...please..._

"I'm their Secret-Keeper."

Her eyes went wide, and her face had gone from white to the sickening gray of illness. "You...? But Sirius--why did you--that's--"

"I know," he said expressionlessly, staring at the ground.

Anika swore, under her breath. 

There was another pause.

"It was very brave," she said, in a small voice.

"Thank you," and he kissed her softly, feeling something empty and weighty in his chest. _Is this a broken heart?_

"Come back in," she whispered, and she drew him inside, out of the cold of the hallway, closing the door.

*

Something brushed against her ear, rousing her into muted, languid awareness. It was Sirius; he was already pulling on a shirt, a pair of pants, despite the fact that the light was still grey and shadowy through the huge window. 

"Mmf," said Anika groggily, rolling over on the well-stuffed pillow and entangling her ankles in the sheet. "Sirius...wha..."

"I've got to go out, Ani."

She made a soft, sleepy sound and raised herself on one elbow. "Where? Why?"

"Oh, you know. Work. Don't worry about it, love; I ought to be back in an hour or two, don't fret." He finished buttoning up the shirt, kissing her affectionately atop the head as he did so. "But don't worry too much if I'm late, either. I might be delayed, you know."

"But it's so _early_." She held out her arms invitingly, smiling with the warm drowsiness of the just-awakened. "Come back to bed."

"Love to, but can't," said Sirius briskly, reaching for his boots. "I promise you, when I get back we can spend plenty of time there. _Very_ well-spent time."

"Promise?" she pouted, folding her arms across her chest.

"Cross my heart and hope to die," he said, spreading his arms winningly and smiling that wide, disarming smile that always melted her insides into a slow, squiggling pile of mush and blissful glop. "Love you always?"

"You too. No starlets now," said Anika, even in her sleepy state remembering the ritual. 

"You know they're extinct," Sirius returned promptly, yanking on his leather jacket with a creak and a jingle of studs. 

"And not that horrible--" but he had shut the door before she could get out the word "motorbike," and a moment later she heard the smooth purr of the engine as Sirius revved "that horrible motorbike" and kicked off into the morning sky.

"Damn you, Sirius, when you get back you'd better give me a proper kiss," said Anika into her pillow, and pulled the white comforter over her head.

*

Sirius jogged briskly up the apartment steps, his boots scuffing each stair and squeaking into the echoey stairwell. Peter's flat was all the way up on the sixth floor, but that wasn't so bad...it was a good workout, as Anika used to say.

He knocked on the door, yelling, "Wormy? Wormy, it's me, Padfoot!"

There was no answer. Somewhere down the hallway, there was the sound of a wireless being turned on.

"Wormtail?"

Still no response.

Feeling panic bite at the back of his mind, he thumped more emphatically on the door. "Peter! Open up!"

Silence.

_He's been attacked, _thought Sirius, his stomach twisting itself into knots of fear. _He's been attacked! He's been captured!_

Hands trembling, he pulled his wand from his jacket and aimed it at the keyhole. "_Alohomora!_"

Obligingly, the door clicked, and Sirius tried to force it again, but the chain bolt was drawn.

The _chain bolt?_

Now the fear was so bad it rushed into his ears and pounded in his brain...everything seemed so far away...he threw his whole body into the door and it burst open, the flimsy chain snapping under the onslaught. And then he was standing on the doorstep of Peter's little flat...

Everything was so tidy. The lights had all been turned out; the floors, he noticed, were bare...the carpets had been rolled back, tucked neatly against the walls. Dread quickening his steps, he fairly flew into the bedroom...the mattress had been stripped, and the closets--he ripped them open, jangling the coat hangers on their metal rack, reflecting his eyes, wide with horror and gradual realization, in the dark mirrors behind them--were emptied of clothes. There was nothing left in the apartment, realized Sirius, and the terrible truth slammed into his stomach.

_The bastard. He had this all planned out!_

The voices were gibbering, panicking in his head, drowning all the outside sensations as he raced out of the flat, throwing himself onto the motorbike as though by his own urgency he could beat it into a faster pace.

_I've got to get there before he does! Somehow I've got to get them out--I could still save them--somehow I could--_

He knew he was too late when he saw the thin, twisting column of smoke, rising into the grey sky. _No no no no! _screamed his mind, but there was nothing he could do...

He nearly crashed the motorcycle as he landed, not even seeing that Hagrid stood by the ruined fireplace, holding a cloth-wrapped bundle...not seeing anything except the ruins of stone and flaming wood that had once been the Potter's home. "No," he whispered, tripping over the motorcycle as he tumbled off, his heart thumping painfully against his ribcage..._they can't be dead, they can't be...oh God..._

There, under one of the tumbled walls...

A hand.

Nothing more, just one forlorn, still strong-looking hand, still with a gold band around one long finger, reaching out from beneath the pile of stone as though still clutching at life.

"_No_!" howled Sirius, and he threw himself at it, the grief and the horrible, horrible rage building up into an uncontainable storm within him. He seized at the hand in his own and pulled on it with all the strength in his lean, sinewy body, screaming words he could not even understand in a voice that was not his own, as though he could pull James out from beneath the rubble and he might somehow still be alive, somehow...

Strong hands grasped him firmly but gently about his middle, pulling him away from James's limp remains as he kicked and sobbed unintelligibly, like a child, and there was a rough, broken voice in his ear. "Come on now, Sirius, there's nothing yeh can do..."

"Get off me! Get off me!" bawled Sirius, striking impotently behind him. _This is my fault...this is all my fault...Peter, that stinking traitor...that coward..._And then he was sobbing, tears streaming down his face so fast he hardly even noticed they were there. "Get off....me..." And over there, by the wall...a tumble of auburn hair, a slump of green dress...Lily...

Hagrid turned him forcibly about, still holding his arms fast to his sides. There were tears in his beetle-black eyes, but he was containing them somehow...Hagrid, who sniffled over dead birds and weddings, even he could be strong in the face of this death, and Sirius who laughed at misfortune and suffering and death was nothing better than an infant..."Get ahold of yerself, Sirius!"

"No!" sobbed Sirius, fists thudding uselessly over Hagrid's chest and shoulders, feet swinging a foot from the ground. "Get off me! Get off--"

"Sirius!" roared Hagrid, shaking him very sharply this time. "Enough!"

Startled into silence by the roughness of the giant's movements, Sirius dropped his hands to his sides.

"There, then," and Hagrid's voice dropped to rough gentleness. Sirius felt his feet touch the ground, and a moment later Hagrid had enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug and Sirius, still childlike, was crying into the broad chest--a puddle of tears and snot the same way he had been on the day his mother had died...

"I know, Sirius, I know," said Hagrid softly, patting his back.

"James," whispered Sirius, feeling a dull ache begin to pound in the back of his mind. "James is dead...and Lily...and Harry..."

"Not Harry," said Hagrid, and for the first time there was almost a smile in the rough voice. "Harry's alive, Sirius."

Sirius's eyes widened and he pulled away from Hagrid, staring at him with a rush of hope in his heart. "Harry's still alive?"

"Not only alive, but he's a hero," said Hagrid with gruff pride. "And You-Know-Who...he couldn't kill tha' little boy. He tried, but he couldn' do it." He shook his enormous, shaggy head in wonder. "And now he's gone."

"He's _gone_?" It was too much, it was all too much...

Hagrid nodded, still mystified. "I don' know how it happened...nobody does...but somehow, when he tried ter kill Harry, his...power broke somehow. He's gone, Sirius...and look at young Harry's forehead..."

He released Sirius and bent over the wall, picking up the small, swaddled bundle and handing it to its godfather.

Hands shaking, Sirius pulled back the fabric. Harry, with his shock of black hair so like his father's, his eyes, green and wide, so like his mothers...it almost broke Sirius, almost sent him to his knees, but he forced himself to stay upright.

Across the baby's forehead, right where the soft, thick hair fell, was a great long slash, bleeding and scorched around the edges. Sirius ran a finger over Harry's soft, snub nose; the child giggled and snatched at his godfather's hand, crying "Pazzie...Pazzie..."

"You've got to let me take care of him," said Sirius suddenly, feeling an overwhelming love for this child that was almost his own. "You've got to let me. I'm his godfather, Hagrid, Ani and I will raise him like our own..." _Ani will raise him. I've got to take care of Peter. I'll kill him. And then I'll live with the consequences, as long as I can see him dead._

Hagrid was obviously tempted, but he reached over Sirius's hands and pulled Harry gently away from him, ignoring the child's indignant mewling and squirming at being separated from his friend. "I would, Sirius, yeh know I would...You an' Ani would be the best parents young Harry could ever 'ave. But Dumbledore...'The boy's to go to his uncle and aunt,' 'e says. Muggles, they are." Hagrid's eyes betrayed the disbelief he felt, but his utter trust in Dumbledore was obvious from the tone of his voice. "I don' know, Sirius, but I'd trust Dumbledore with me life. He's got ter have a reason ter do things this way. I'm to take Harry to Dumbledore straight off."

"But--you can't give him to _Muggles_!"

Hagrid sighed. "I know, Sirius, but what's to be done? Dumbledore's orders..."

"Hagrid--"

"I'm not goin' ter argue with yeh, Sirius. Dumbledore knows what 'e's doing. It's not my place to second-guess 'im."

"Yes," said Sirius expressionlessly, his stomach dropping in defeat. After he killed Peter, they'd never let him see Harry again...this was his last chance...

He leaned over and kissed his godson on the forehead, right above the gash. "You tell him I loved him, when he gets older," whispered Sirius, his voice almost cracking with despair. "You tell him I would have been a good godfather."

"What are you on about, Sirius?" asked Hagrid, perplexed.

"Promise me you'll tell him!" It was so stupid, so sentimental...but Harry had to know...

"Aye, I'll tell him if yeh like..."

Sirius stared up at him, and Hagrid nearly fell back at the hate in the normally laughing purple-black eyes. "And take my motorcycle to get Harry to Dumbledore...you'll take good care of her--it--won't you? I won't be needing it anymore, I don't think..." Hagrid started to protest, but Sirius silenced him with a glance. "Just..._take _it."

"Aye, I'll do that," said Hagrid in surprise. "Where're yeh going?"

"I have business to take care of," said Sirius, very softly. James might have recognized the look in his eyes, could he see it; it was the look he had worn on the night of the Willow incident, the dangerous blankness, the total lack of either mirth or sadness...

He turned to gaze at Harry. The boy was regarding him with eyes that were almost frightened, and "Pazzie?" faltered Harry, shrinking back into his swaddling clothes.

"So long, Spots," whispered Sirius, trying to smile, the effort making his head and jaw hurt. He touched his godson's head, almost as though blessing him, and Harry fell silent, the long-eyelashes resting softly on the fat baby-cheek. "You're going to look just like your father, you know."

"Pazzie," said Harry drowsily. "Pazzie doggie snuffle nose."

And then Sirius whirled and ran, pounding down the street at an impossibly fast pace..

"Good doggie," said Harry sleepily, waving at the night sky, right where Canis Major twinkled above his head. "_Good _doggie."

"Aye, good doggie," said Hagrid gently, hoisting Harry onto his shoulder. 

*

Ani stared out her window, one hand resting on the gentle swell of her stomach. Sirius had told her that morning that he'd be going out to check on something work-related, but that had been four hours ago...she was starting to worry...maybe something was wrong. But he'd told her not to worry if he was late...

_I should get dressed, _she thought without much conviction. _It's real morning now._ But then again, it was Saturday, and maybe he would get back and bring her breakfast in bed...

The fire that was always lit in the grate flashed abruptly yellow--Dumbledore's color.

Ani sat up, the covers dropping off her body, and then, abruptly embarrassed, yanked them back up. "Ophelia here."

"Ophelia?" Dumbledore's voice, sounded both sharp and tired. "There's been an attack in Muggle London...Iago's dead. So are Romeo and Juliet."

The color drained from her face...it couldn't be true, there had to be a misunderstanding...she was automatically reaching for the clothes that always lay draped over the chair near the bed and tugging them on. "What...who..."

"I can't talk," said Dumbledore, and she realized that he even sounded sad. "You've got to get down there, _now_."

"I'm on it," said Anika grimly, hoping she wouldn't splinch herself in the process. _They're wrong, I know they are, there's been a mistake_...Lily and James couldn't be dead, they just couldn't be.

Sirius was their secret-keeper, and he'd never have let that happen.

*

Anika Apparated onto a scene of utter chaos. Blood stained the streets; people were screaming; the bodies of what seemed like hundreds of people lay scattered over the cobblestones, some of them moving slightly, others completely still. 

She felt the deceptively gentle eddy of the River around her ankles. There was so much death here, so much...

_"I don't believe people ever really die," said Lily softly, stroking Harry's downy head. "Anyway I don't think I shall ever die; can you imagine how furious James would be with me? I know _I _would absolutely kill him if _he_ went and died without telling me."_

_ "I'll try to let you know," said James, and he laughed, his eyes sparkling like stars as he looked at her, and the love he felt for her almost palpable in the air..._

She felt the bile rising in her throat as she knelt beside the nearest corpse.

It was just a girl, no more than seventeen, pretty...only a Muggle, thought Anika in horror, innocent...this hadn't been her fault...she was so blameless, and she was dead, and her blue eyes still stared blankly at the sky, cruelly identical in shade. 

A sharp pain clogged her throat as she closed the sunny eyes with one hand, dragging her gaze upward to see who could have been responsible for so much death.

Only about ten feet away from her, the street was cracked right through, a deep chasm breaking it straight in half, a chasm that ran clear down to the sewers. There were bright splashes of blood all around it, so bright they could hardly be real. And there, standing over the abyss with wand in one crimson-stained hand, staring into its depths with inscrutable eyes...

Sirius.

"_No_," whispered Anika, unable to believe what her eyes told her, refusing to believe it. And then her voice rose into a scream, denying the inevitable _yes_ as he looked up and those hollow eyes, black in the strange shadows that the buildings cast over his sculptured face, met her own--"No! _Noooo!_"

There was something helpless in those eyes, beyond the simple matte-blank skeletal emptiness...something that pleaded with her, for a moment almost caught her. It triggered a sudden spasm of nausea; Anika screamed, tearing the black-opal ring from her finger so hard that it ripped a long gash in the skin and flinging it at the man she thought she loved, the one she'd thought had loved her. _He was just using me...he...it was all a lie..._

His eyes broke from hers, moving to the band that rolled to his feet and spun, with a silvery tinkle, into the chasm before his feet. And then he looked back up--a sudden, final movement of the head and spine, the corners of his mouth twitching convulsively. And he started to laugh, laugh until he was breathing in pained, ragged gasps and Anika could only hear the sound she'd used to love so much twisted and perverted, the smell of blood...the current tugged insistently at her ankles; she was too weak to resist it, and almost slipped, but something like hatred kept her breathing and she threw herself at him, screaming. But then there was a whoosh of air and someone Apparated in behind her, grabbing her arms and twisting them behind her. A worried voice--"That can't be young Donelan?"--and in her state she did not even recognize Cornelius Fudge's voice, the young incompetent from the Department of Magical Catastrophes. Her eyes were still swimming on Sirius, and then there were six armed men descending on him--and he was still laughing, his head thrown back, throat open to the sky, gulping in the cold November air.

"Take her," came Fudge's voice, and suddenly it was sharp and businesslike, and "_Nooo_!" screamed Anika, but there was a rush of wind in her ears and the scene dissolved.

*

The man sat in the corner of his cell, staring at the wall. Now and again, he started to laugh, a sound so utterly hopeless and grieving that it almost sounded like a howl.

In another cell, a woman shuddered, her whole body racked with sobs, her breath ragged and uneven. "Sirius," she whispered into the stone floor, and then she curled herself into a ball, nestling her head against her knees as the pain shot through her again.

The sun was setting on Azkaban; bloody fingers of light shot over the reddened sea, casting dark, blue-black shadows over the spiked walls and empty courtyards. 

*

Remus stood in front of the desk, the hollows under his eyes more pronounced than ever before, but he held himself as tall as he could. 

The official pulled a wand, tapped the quill lying on the desk, and muttered, "_Transcripio_." The stylus sprang to attention, skating across the paper. Upside-down, Remus could read: "_Interrogation of Remus Lupin, November 3, 1981._"

The official looked down at the papers spread in front of him, then up at Remus. "State your full name and occupation for the record."

"Remus John Lupin," said Remus expressionlessly. "Researcher and translator." The quill sketched furious lines across the parchment.

"Age?"

"Twenty-one."

The officer regarded him in obvious disbelief--but the Veritas potion held him, and despite how much older he looked, Remus could not be lying. "Place of residence?"

"Hogwarts castle, east wing."

"And you were a...friend...of Sirius Black and Anika Donelan?"

"Yes. I thought I was."

"I see." The man peered back down at his papers, and then suddenly shook his head, running his hands through his light hair, and let out a breath of wondering air. "Do you believe that Donelan and Black were working together against the Ministry and Dumbledore's alliance?"

"I find it...difficult...to accept, sir."

"But you do agree that Black was a spy for...You-Know-Who?"

The Veritas potion forced the answer past lips that were suddenly dry. "I...I think I have to."

"And you agree that Donelan and Black were quite inseparable? Real...soulmates?" The man chuckled darkly.

"Yes," whispered Remus. _No....Ani couldn't have been..._ "But surely--there's no evidence that she--"

"Nothing but the evidence of her obvious connection to Black, evidence that cannot be ignored....They were engaged?"

"Yes."

"And living together?"

"Yes."

"But did she know of the Fidelius charm being performed?"

"We had agreed not to tell her. We knew there was someone tracing our movements, especially Lily's, and James's. Sirius flatly refused to believe that Anika was the spy..."

The officer pounced. "So he defended her?"

"Yes. He was all for telling her. It was Peter who convinced him not to let anyone know outside the five of us and Dumbledore..." 

"Peter Pettigrew? The wizard Black killed?"

"Yes," confirmed Remus bleakly. Thinking about Peter, his kind round face and wide, innocent blue eyes, was painful.

"Do you believe she knew?"

"I believe Sirius would have told her. But I suppose I don't know Sirius as well as I...thought I did."

"I see," said the official again. He checked his notes. "You are a...a werewolf, Mr. Lupin?" and all of a sudden his voice was very cold, as though even under the influence of the Veritas potion Remus's word could not be trusted.

"Yes."

"So. So." The official glowered at him, and Remus found that he could not meet his gaze. "_Finite Venenum_."

Remus let out a breath of relief as the Veritas effects wore off, and managed, "What's--what's going to happen to Ani?"

"A month in Azkaban, no more, for questioning. As an accomplice, you understand. But there's very little evidence against her, so we probably won't be holding her for long."

"Can you--could you possibly tell me when she's released?"

The officer glowered at him. "We have a confidentiality policy on prisoner release. I'm sure you can appreciate why."

"Of course," said Remus hoarsely.

The man made a dismissive gesture with one hand. "You may go, Mr. Lupin."

But Remus was already gone, walking blindly out of the dark station into the night, ramming past celebrating wizards on the street, numb. And he was whirling through the clouds, past the moon and into the black expanses of space, up and up and up, away from the gray city that stretched out, caught between twilight and dawn, oblivious and unfeeling.


End file.
